THE   DRAMATIC   VERSION  OF 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL 
A  PLAY 


Cijrtetnra* 

Dramatic 


liate  Bouglas  Wi 

Jn  collaboration  toitb 


33o6ton  atiti  1*3  ftu 
II?ottgI)ton  ^ifflin  Company 


COPYRIGHT,  1914,  BT  KATE  DOUGLAS  RIGGS 
AS  AUTHOR  AND  PROPRIETOR 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

Published  October  1914 

PLEASE   NOTICE 

The  professional  stage  rights  in  this  play  are  strictly  reserved 
By  the  author,  to  whose  agent  applications  for  its  use  should  be 
addressed.  Amateurs  may  obtain  permission  to  produce  it  pri- 
vately on  payment  of  a  fee  for  each  performance,  always  in 
advance.  Correspondence  on  this  subject  should  be  addressed, 
and  all  such  payments  made  to  Miss  Alice  Kauser,  152  West 
42d  Street,  New  York  City. 

Attention  is  called  to  the  penalties  provided  by  law  for  any 
infringements  of  the  author's  rights,  as  follows :  — 

"  Sec,  4066:  — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  represent- 
ing  any  dramatic  or  musical  composition  for  which  copyright 
has  been  obtained,  without  the  consent  of  the  proprietor  of  said 
dramatic  or  musical  composition,  or  his  heirs  and  assigns,  shall 
be  liable  for  damages  therefor,  such  damages  in  all  cases  to  be 
assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less  than  one  hundred  dollars  for  the 
first  and  fifty  dollars  for  every  subsequent  performance,  as  to 
the  court  shall  appear  to  be  just.  If  the  unlawful  performance 
and  representation  be  wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  per. 
sons  shall  be  guilty  of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction  be 
imprisoned  for  a  period  not  exceeding  one  year."  — 

U.  S.  Revised  Statues,  Title  60,  Chap.  3. 


Vfe  fctotrtfltt  »rn« 

CAMBRIDGE  •  MASSACHUSETTS 
PUNTED  IN  THB  U.  S.  A. 


THE  AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL  is  commonly 
alluded  to  as  my  first  literary  effort,  but  the  story  is 
somewhat  ill-described  in  that  phrase,  for  it  was 
written  quite  without  effort  and  with  no  thought 
that  it  might  ever  be  classed  as  a  literary  product. 
The  sole  idea  that  brought  it  into  being  was  that  it 
might  be  printed  in  a  humble  paper-covered  volume 
and  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the  Silver  Street  Kinder- 
garten in  San  Francisco,  the  first  free  kindergarten 
west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  founded  in  1878. 

A  few  years  later  the  pamphlet  found  its  way  to 
the  offices  of  Houghton  Mifflin  Company  in  Bos- 
ton, wliere  the  senior  member  of  the  firm  took  it  under 
his  personal  protection,  the  date  of  its  issue  marking 
the  beginning  of  a  loyal  friendship  between  author 
and  publishers  that  has  continued  unbroken  up  to 
the  present  day. 

It  was  not  many  months  before  selections  from  the 
book  began  to  appear  on  the  programmes  of  public 
readers,  and  in  due  course  it  was  given  in  one  form 
or  another  by  hundreds  of  academies  and  seminaries, 
grammar,  high,  normal,  and  Sunday  schools,  as  well 
as  by  institutions  for  blind  and  deaf-mute  children. 
Sometimes  it  appeared  in  tableaux,  sometimes  in 
pantomime,  with  and  without  explanatory  readings; 
but  more  often  it  was  "acted"  under  the  direction 
of  some  one  who  arranged  the  various  conversations 


vi       THE  AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

of  the  book  with  due  regard  to  continuity,  the 
loosely  connected  scenes  serving  as  a  modest  and 
rudimentary  form  of  "  play." 

All  this  seems  somewhat  mysterious  in  view  of  the 
fact  that  the  original  story  contained  no  drama,  in 
the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word.  It  may  have  been  the 
"Ruggleses  in  the  rear"  who  tempted  the  projectors 
of  these  amateur  entertainments;  for  perhaps  I  may 
have  infused  a  certain  amount  of  vigor  and  vitality 
into  this  family,  since  its  presentation  on  the  boards 
has  always  been  greeted  with  laughter  and  applause, 
even  when  the  more  delicate  scenes  with  Carol,  her 
mother  and  father  and  Uncle  Jack,  may  have  proved 
a  little  dull. 

At  all  events,  the  Ruggleses  have  made  their  ap- 
pearance on  the  amateur  stage  quite  regularly  for 
more  than  thirty  years.  Mrs.  Ruggles  has  even  had 
the  honor  of  being  impersonated  by  a  distinguished 
professor  of  history  in  Harvard  University,  who,  at 
an  impromptu  gathering  in  Cambridge,  drew  to  his 
support  several  brother  scholars  who  convulsed  the 
audience  by  their  antics  as  the  little  Ruggleses.  j 

Many  amateur  dramatizations  of  the  book  have 
been  sent  me  for  criticism,  but  though  they  doubtless 
served  their  purpose  more  or  less  agreeably,  all  of 
them  left  much  to  be  desired,  in  that,  with  com- 
mendable courtesy,  their  authors  refrained  from 
adding  to  the  text,  and  this,  for  dramatic  purposes, 
was  necessary. 

A  book  that  begins  with  the  birth  of  a  child  and 
ends  with  its  death,  presents,  it  must  be  admitted, 


THE  AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION      vii 

some  difficulty  to  the  budding  dramatist;  and  many 
of  the  little  "Carol  plays"  were  so  pathological  and 
so  painful  that  the  youthful  part  of  any  audience 
would  have  been  in  tears  whenever  the  Ruggleses 
removed  themselves  from  the  stage. 

In  the  present  arrangement  the  birth  of  Carol  is 
depicted  in  a  sort  of  fairy  prologue,  in  which  the 
welcome  gift  of  the  Christmas  baby  to  the  Bird 
household  is  shown  in  a  series  of  pictures. 

As  to  the  death  of  the  Christmas  child  twelve 
years  later,  it  is  touched  upon  very  lightly  in  the 
original  story  and  retired  still  farther  into  the  back- 
ground in  this  dramatic  version.  An  imaginary 
"Doctor  Bob"  has  been  introduced,  one  of  a  long 
line  of  physicians  who  have  tried  to  deliver  the  child 
from  the  burden  of  her  weakness  and  her  crutch;  and 
the  last  scene  of  the  play  suggests  to  the  audience 
none  but  healing  thoughts.  The  Angel  of  the  Pro- 
logue comes  softly  to  Carol  in  her  happy  sleep,  lifts 
the  crutch  and  vanishes  with  a  smile.  The  curtain 
goes  down  on  a  peaceful  picture,  the  merry  chatter 
of  the  Ruggles  children  on  their  homeward  way, 
mingling  with  the  Christmas  music  that  drifts  into 
the  big  house  from  the  church  next  door. 

While  the  slenderness  of  the  story  will  not  admit 
of  much  addition  in  the  way  of  plot  and  counter- 
plot, suspense  and  conflict,  my  collaborator  and  I 
determined  to  bring  Mrs.  Ruggles  into  the  Christ- 
mas party,  thus  linking  both  families  more  closely 
together,  as  well  as  providing  the  best  acting  part 
with  new  situations. 


viii     THE  AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

To  prevent  a  certain  monotony  of  goodness  in  the 
Bird  family  we  have  endowed  Mr.  Bird  (without 
asking  his  consent)  with  decidedly  aristocratic  ten- 
dencies, and  a  certain  "fussiness"  with  regard  to  the 
invasion  of  his  domestic  peace  by  the  boisterous  and 
lowly -born  Ruggleses, — reduced  in  number  from  nine 
to  seven,  in  order  to  simplify  the  problems  of  the 
stage  manager. 

We  have  created  a  small  element  of  suspense  as  to 
the  final  fate  of  the  Ruggleses'  dwelling  in  the  rear, 
making  the  audience  fear  that  this  bugbear  may 
shortly  be  removed,  in  order  to  gratify  the  eye  of 
Carol's  fastidious  father.  We  have  also  suggested 
a  possible  "heart  interest"  between  Uncle  Jack  and 
Elfrida,  Carol's  devoted  companion. 

Out  of  these  changes  fresh  material  has  grown, 
and  I  hope  that  the  loyal  readers  of  the  old  book  will 
find  nothing  to  surprise  or  offend  them  in  the  new  one, 
but  will  feel  rather  that  they  have  gained  a  little 
further  knowledge  about  a  group  of  people  whom 
they  met  and  liked,  years  and  years  ago. 

SUGGESTIONS  TO  THE  AMATEUR  PLAYER 

If  the  stage  manager  or  director  reads  the  entire 
text  of  the  volume,  thus  getting  its  spirit  and  in- 
tention, he  can  then  easily  modify  the  play  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  particular  circumstances  and  limi- 
tations. Sunday-school  room,  vestry,  town  hall, 
auditorium  of  a  public  school,  each  of  these  presents 
its  own  difficulties,  while  the  money  to  be  spent  on  the 


THE  AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION       ix 

production,  and  the  talent  of  the  performers,  will 
differ  in  every  case.  Obstacles  which  look  very 
formidable  at  first  prove  to  be,  after  all,  not  insur- 
mountable; for  there  exists,  in  every  town,  a  genius 
for  the  inventing  of  costumes,  lighting  effects, 
theatrical  properties  and  scenery,  who  needs  only 
to  be  discovered  and  encouraged.  The  background 
of  each  act  should  be  made,  if  not  perfect,  at  all 
events,  as  convincing  as  possible,  and  above  all,  there 
should  be  a  happy,  serene,  spontaneous  atmosphere 
about  the  entire  entertainment,  so  that  the  true 
spirit  of  Christmas  will  gradually  be  revealed. 

The  Prologue,  which,  as  it  stands,  needs  the  me- 
chanical and  electrical  devices  which  only  the  theater 
can  supply,  may  be  omitted  altogether,  and  the  cur- 
tain may  rise  on  the  first  act  without  any  prelimina- 
ries; but  there  are  two  ways  of  using  the  Prologue, 
both  of  them  possible  to  amateurs. 

First :  Tableaux  and  Pantomime.  The  Bird  house 
and  the  church  can  be  imagined,  "off  stage,"  and 
their  existence  indicated  by  the  gestures  of  the  angels. 
Illustrate  as  much  of  the  text  as  you  find  possible, 
making  it  a  series  of  pictures  conveying  the  idea, 
and  accompany  it  with  the  most  appropriate  Christ- 
mas music  that  you  can  devise. 

Second:  Make  a  "  story  "  of  the  Prologue  and  let  the 
right  person  tell  it  to  the  audience,  converting  it,  by 
slight  changes  of  phraseology,  into  a  series  of  word 
pictures  ending  with  these  lines :  "  The  Home-Finder 
gently  closes  the  door  of  the  Bird  house;  the  hallway 
is  quite  dark,  but  the  vnndows  upstairs  grow  very 


x         THE  AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

bright  and  the  angels  are  seen  passing  them  carrying 
the  child.  —  The  Christmas  baby  has  found  a  home  !  " 
At  the  last  words  of  the  story  the  concealed  choir 
(it  may  be  two  or  a  dozen  voices)  sings;  "Carol, 
brothers,  Carol";  the  identity  of  the  newly  arrived 
snow-bird  is  established  and  the  audience  is  ready 
for  the  play. 

When  the  Prologue  is  omitted  altogether,  you 
may  preface  the  performance  by  having  some  one 
recite  the  following  verses:  — 

A  bird  flutter'd  downward  from  Paradise 

And  sought  for  an  earthly  nest; 
For  the  blessed  shield  of  a  mother's  wing 

And  the  warmth  of  a  mother's  breast. 

An  angel  who  noted  the  birdling's  flight, 

A  welcoming  household  sought, 
And  to  just  one  home  out  of  all  the  world 

The  heavenly  nestling  brought. 

Oh,  a  soft,  sweet,  tender  birdling  she. 

With  a  love-light  in  her  eyes; 
But  a  broken  wing  was  the  price  she  paid 

For  leaving  her  Paradise. 

Yet,  spite  of  trials,  the  birdling  grew, 

And  she  caroled  amid  her  pain 
Till  the  gray  of  the  household  turned  to  rose 

Like  a  rainbow  after  the  rain. 

As  for  the  furnishings  and  fittings  of  the  stage,  do 
the  best  you  can,  always  remembering  that  if  the 
actors  are  in  the  right  spirit  they  will  be  just  so  many 
instruments  of  suggestion,  establishing  that  wonder- 
ful and  mysterious  collaboration  between  players 


THE  AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION       xi 

and  audience  that  is  always  in  force  when  things 
are  at  their  best.  Carol  herself  is  much  more  impor- 
tant than  her  "fairy-story  bedroom,"  and  a  very 
inadequate  Ruggles  kitchen  will  be  quite  forgotten 
when  the  right  Mrs.  Ruggles  appears  on  the  scene. 

Mrs.  Ruggles's  nationality  has  been  much  dis- 
cussed and  she  has  often  been  played  with  an  Irish 
brogue.  Names  of  characters  meant  little  to  one  who 
was  impulsively  writing  her  first  story  and  I  cannot 
remember  why  the  big  household  in  the  little  house 
was  dignified  with  the  name  of  Ruggles.  Represen- 
tatives of  the  family  proved  to  me  quite  conclusively 
that  it  was  a  mistaken  choice;  but  when,  in  a  youthful 
enthusiasm  of  well-doing,  I  endeavored  to  substitute 
another  and  less  aristocratic  surname,  the  creatures 
of  my  imagination  had  somehow  established  them- 
selves in  the  public  favor;  so  that  "Ruggleses  in  the 
Rear"  they  remained  from  that  time  forth.  Some  of 
the  children  have  Irish  Christian  names,  it  is  true, 
but  not  all  of  them;  and  that  Mrs.  Ruggles  was  born 
a  McGrill  may  point  to  an  ancestry  not  altogether 
American;  but  I  should  "play"  or  "read"  the  good 
lady  exactly  as  she  is  written,  with  no  hint  of  brogue, 
but  with  the  dialect  I  gave  her  when  she  was  born. 

Make  Uncle  Jack  as  magnetic,  jolly,  and  genial 
as  possible,  and  do  not  over-accentuate  Mr.  Bird's 
peculiarities;  remembering  that  if  he  had  been  left  in 
the  book,  where  he  began  life,  he  might  have  been 
as  colorless  and  praiseworthy  as  he  liked  and  no  one 
would  have  criticized  him! 

Mrs.  Bird  and  Elfrida  must  be  as  pretty  and 


xii       THE  AUTHOR'S  INTRODUCTION 

charming  as  may  be,  since  their  lines  offer  few  dra- 
matic opportunities.  As  for  the  Ruggleses,  when 
once  they  are  clothed  and  set  upon  the  stage  they 
can  generally  be  relied  upon  to  supply  their  own 
motive  power. 

KATE  DOUGLAS  WIGGIN. 


SCENES 

PROLOGUE.  A  Little  Snow-Bird 

The  outside  of  the  Bird  house,  the  low  roof  of  the  Bug- 
gies dwelling  behind,  and  the  church  beside  it,  on  a 
snowy  Christmas  morning. 

ACT  I.  The  Birds' Nest 

Carol  Bird's  Fairy-Story  room,  on  a  December  afternoon 
twelve  years  later. 

ACT  II.  Some  Other  Birds  are  taught  to  fly 
Christmas  Day  in  the  Buggies  Kitchen. 

ACT  HE.   The  Angel  of  the  Crutches 

Christmas  evening  in  the  Fairy-Story  room. 

"Sweet  Bird,  thy  bower  is  ever  green, 

Thy  sky  is  ever  clear; 
Thou  hast  no  sorrow  in  thy  song, 
No  winter  in  thy  year." 


CHARACTERS 


ANGELS  OP  THE  PROLOGUE  (three  or  five) 

THE  BIBD  FAMILY 

Carol  Bird,  the  "Snow-Bird"  grown-up. 

Mrs.  Bird,  her  mother. 

Mr.  Donald  Bird,  her  father,  in  the  nest,  but  not  quite 

of  it. 

Uncle  Jack,  a  Bird  of  Passage. 

Elfrida  Clifford,  Carol's  nurse,  a  Bird  of  another  feather. 
The  Butler. 

THEIR  NEIGHBORS  —  THE  RUGGLESES  IN  THE  REAR 
Mrs.  Ruggles,  who  was  a  McGrill. 
Sarah  Maud, 
Peter, 
Peoria, 

The  Seven  Little  Ruggleses. 


Cornelius, 

and 
Larry. 


PEOPLE 

CAROL  BIRD,  twelve  years  old,  distinctly  blonde  type  (as 
better  expressing  the  necessary  spirituality),  pretty, 
quaint,  generous  little  creature,  who  makes  light  of  her 
slight  physical  infirmity.  She  radiates  good  will,  but 
her  influence  is  quite  unconscious.  She  seems  a  normal, 
laughter-loving  child,  and  must  be  acted  as  lightly  and 
gracefully  as  possible,  with  no  emphasis  upon  the  pa- 
thetic. Though  fragile,  she  does  not  look  unhealthy  or 
feeble.  She  uses  her  crutch  so  nimbly  that  there  is  no 
sense  of  weariness  or  effort.  That  the  child's  heart  is  a 
little  tired  by  its  brief  journey  in  the  world,  does  not, 
and  should  not  be  obvious  to  the  audience.  Carol  is 
one  of  those  children  who  come  to  earth  "trailing 
clouds  of  glory,"  and  who  depart,  like  heavenly  vis- 
itants, leaving  the  world,  not  sadder,  but  brighter. 

MR.  BIRD,  Carol's  father,  a  successful  banker  who  knows 
and  appreciates  worldly  values;  is  handsome  and  fas- 
tidious, has  strong  class  prejudices;  is  ultra  correct 
in  dress  and  speech,  and  impatient  of  annoyances. 

MRS.  BIRD,  chiefly  Carol's  mother;  after  that,  Mr.  Bird's 
wife. 

JACK  BIRD,  Carol's  uncle,  a  "Bird  of  Passage"  who  enjoys 
life,  ignores  conventions,  and  does  as  he  pleases,  but 
is  pleased  most  if  others  are  pleased  also. 

ELFRIDA  CLIFFORD,  Carol's  nurse  and  companion,  a  hand- 
some young  woman  of  about  twenty-five,  self-pos- 
sessed, quiet  in  manner,  simple,  strong,  and  womanly. 

The  Ruggleses  in  the  Rear 
MRS.  RUGGLES,  mother  of  the  Ruggleses  in  the  Rear:  a 


xviii  PEOPLE 


rushed,  pushed,  energetic,  occasionally  irascible 
mother  of  seven  children.  She  has  considerable  family 
pride  and  considerable  ambition  for  her  offspring;  is 
voluble  and  good-hearted. 

SARAH  MAUD,  the  oldest  of  the  brood:  a  patient,  timid 
drudge.  Aged  fourteen  years. 

PETER,  a  lank  youth  of  thirteen. 

PEORIA,  has  red  hair  and  freckles.  Aged  eleven. 

KITTY,  considered  the  family  beauty:  she  has  much  "man- 
ner." Aged  ten. 

CLEMENT,  the  alert  member  of  the  family;  rather  mischiev- 
ous; quick  in  thought  and  action.  Aged  nine  years. 

CORNELIUS,  a  leaden  child  of  eight,  who  smiles  much  and 
says  little. 

LARRY,  a  rolypoly,  whose  years  should  be  as  few  as  pos- 
sible, —  say  six.  He  tumbles  about,  dogging  Sarah 
Maud's  steps,  giving  only  occasional  indication  of 
separate  existence. 

ANGELS,  —  at  least  four  or  five  lithe  young  girls  who 
dance.  There  is  a  possibility  of  doubling  the  parts 
and  using  the  three  Ruggles  girls,  if  the  beauty  and 
personality  requisite  for  the  angels  can  be  successfully 
hidden  by  the  comedy  make-up  of  the  Rugglesea. 


THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CARO& 


THE  BIRDS' 
CHRISTMAS  CAROL 


PROLOGUE 

THE    CHRISTMAS    BABY   FINDS   A    HOME 
(IN   PANTOMIME) 

The  curtain  lifts,  showing  a  Christmas  Eve  snow- 
storm: a  soft,  gentle  fall  of  large  flakes.  The  stage  grows 
slowly  lighter,  and  to  right  center  is  seen  a  substantial 
dwelling-house,  the  stones  of  which  are  meshed  by  the 
wood  of  leafless  vines  in  whose  crooks  are  caught  soft 
mounds  of  the  snow.  To  the  left  of  the  house,  extending 
across  the  stage,  is  a  snow-covered  hedge;  to  the  leftt 
back,  is  a  low,  stone  church.  The  lights  from  its  small- 
paned  windows  fall  across  the  hedge.  The  church  is  so 
placed  that  these  side  windows  are  clearly  seen;  but  the 
entrance  and  steeple  are  to  the  front,  almost  in  a  line 
with  the  hedge,  and  to  the  left  of  the  stage.  Between  the 
church  and  the  house  is  seen  a  low-lying  roof  of  a  poorer 
dwelling.  As  these  details  are  established,  a  window  in 
the  church  is  opened.  Music  is  heard  faintly.  The  light 
from  the  window  gives  vague  outline  to  the  Home  Find- 
ing Angel,  a  gray-cloaked,  graceful  little  figure.  As  the 
light  grows  quickly  brighter,  the  figure  becomes  more  dis~ 
tinct,  and,  as  the  snow  slowly  ceases,  moves  lightly, 
dancingly  forward.  She  looks  to  the  sky,  then  flits  across 


4       THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL 

the  stage,  returns,  again  looks  up,  and  this  time  sees  a 
brilliant  star,  which  is  sparkling  in  the  heavens  be- 
tween the  steeple  of  the  church  and  the  window  of  the 
house.  As  she  watches,  the  star  disappears  and  a  faint 
light  appears  in  the  corner  window  of  the  second  story  of 
the  house:  indeed,  it  is  disclosed  by  the  lifting  of  the 
curtain  and  the  window  by  a  hand  within.  The  Angel 
tosses  her  head  gleefully;  the  hood  falls  from  her 
golden  hair,  and  the  scene  becomes  thereby  a  bit  lighter. 
She  lifts  herself  to  her  wings  and  flies  up  to  the  window 
and  peeps  in.  Apparently  satisfied  with  what  she  has 
seen,  she  perches  there  upon  the  broad  ledge  and  beckons 
with  both  hands  to  right  and  left.  At  least  four  (but  they 
need  not  be  flying  Angels')  gray-cloaked,  graceful  little 
creatures  appear  from  right  and  left.  Two  of  them  carry 
a  bough  twined  with  vines  across  their  shoulders,  and 
from  this  is  hung  a  queer  sort  of  nest.  They  are  very 
tender  and  careful  of  it.  The  hoods  of  their  cloaks  are 
tossed  off  and  each  head  is  radiant,  while  their  gowns 
are  of  shimmering,  soft-colored  veils. 

The  Angel  on  the  window  ledge,  the  Home-Finder, 
points  to  the  door  of  the  house,  and  the  others  go  quickly 
toward  it.  They  form  a  little  group,  bending  over  or 
caressing  the  nest ;  then  two  of  them  stand  at  the  house 
door,  ready  to  open  it.  The  Home-Finder  flies  down 
from  the  ledge,  kneels  beside  the  nest,  seeming  to  say 
a  tender  good-bye  to  a  baby  which  is  seen  through  the 
opening;  then  she  rises  quickly  and  motions  to  the  two  at 
the  door.  They  softly  open  it,  and  the  other  two  lift  the 
nest  a  bit  higher  and  enter.  As  they  cross  the  thres- 
hold, their  cloaks  fall  from  their  shoulders,  and  the  hall- 


THE   BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL       5 

way  becomes  exceedingly  bright.  The  Angels  outside 
put  up  their  hoods,  and  the  only  light  of  the  stage  is 
that  in  the  hallway. 

The  Angels  inside  the  house  take  the  baby  from  the 
nest,  one  holding  it  in  her  arms  tenderly,  another  lead- 
ing the  way  up  the  stairs.  As  they  disappear,  the  light 
within  grows  dimmer,  until,  as  the  Home-Finder  gently 
closes  the  door,  the  hallway  is  quite  dark. 

As  the  curtain  begins  to  fall,  the  windows  upstairs 
(two  at  the  front,  and  the  one  or  two  seen  at  the  side) 
grow  very  bright,  and  the  two  Angels  and  the  baby  are 
seen  passing  them. 

The  Christmas  music  at  the  church,  which  has  been 
heard  throughout  the  pantomime,  continues  while  the 
curtain  is  down,  which  interval  must  be  as  brief  a* 


ACT  I 

THE   BIRDS'    NEST. 

SCENE:  Carol's  Fairy-Story  room,  twelve  years  later. 
Four  o'clock  on  an  afternoon  during  the  week  be- 
fore Christmas.  The  watt,  right,  is  broken  by  a  door 
to  the  front,  leading  into  the  haU.  Across  the  corner, 
right  back,  are  wide  double  doors  leading  to  Carol's 
bedroom.  Rear  wall,  center,  is  a  large  bay  window  with 
deep  recess.  This  has  thin  white  draperies,  and  at  each 
side  hang  heavy  rose-colored  curtains,  wide  enough, 
when  drawn,  to  conceal  the  recess.  In  the  left  wall, 
front,  are  windows  through  which  the  low  sun  shines 
very  brightly.  About  the  walls,  as  wainscoting,  are 
low,  white-painted  bookcases,  filled  with  brightly 
colored  books:  above  these,  in  narrow  gilt  framework, 
runs  a  row  of  paintings  illustrating  fairy  tales — all  in 
blue,  gold,  silver,  and  a  rose  deeper  than  the  curtains. 
Above  the  pictures  a  pale  pink  wall.  The  carpet  is  rose 
color.  The  furniture  is  a  large  easy-chair  with  cush* 
ions,  right  center;  to  right  of  this  a  smatt  library  table, 
with  writing  materials,  Christmas  stamps,  etc.;  a  doll's 
trunk,  a  couple  of  dolls;  right  of  table,  a  desk  chair; 
left  of  Carol's  chair,  a  small  table  on  which  are  flowers 
and  a  large  basket  of  fruit. 

When  curtain  lifts  there  is  no  one  on  stage.  The 
cushions  in  the  large  chair,  left,  are  still  dented  as  with 
the  imprint  of  Carol's  body;  her  sewing  is  on  a  smatt 
dotts'  trunk  in  front  of  the  chair.  A  large  bright-colored 


ACT  1]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    7 

Oriental  silk  handkerchief  hangs  in  the  bay  window, 
arranged  as  for  a  signal. 

Clem  Ruggles  appears  at  the  window  back,  center; 
taps  softly;  waits;  slowly  lifts  the  window  and  steps  over 
the  ledge.  He  is  a  lively  little  chap  and  is  grinning 
somewhat  impishly.  As  he  stands  half  in  and  half  out, 
Elfrida  enters  door  right,  back,  slowly  closing  door 
softly  after  her. 

CLEM.  (Whistles  softly,  laughs  at  Elfrida's  surprise.) 
Where's  Carol? 

ELFRIDA.  Why,  Clem  Ruggles!  (Clem  smiles  at  her, 
then  turns  to  close  the  window.)  You'll  break  your 
neck  climbing  around  like  this.  (Comes  down  center.) 

CLEM.  That  ain't  no  climb !  (Looks  out  of  the  win- 
dow, points.)  I  just  walk  along  our  fence  to  the 
coach-house  roof,  then  I  catch  a  holt  o'  that  creepin* 
ivy  vine  (shows  how  he  climbs  hand  over  hand),  and 
I'm  right  underneath  Carol's  piazzer.  Any  kid  could 
do  that.  WTiere  is  she  ? 

ELFRIDA.  Where  is  your  hat,  Mr.  Clement  Rug- 
gles? —  since  you're  calling  on  a  lady?  (Clem  snatches 
off  his  hat.)  Carol  is  asleep.  (Nods  to  door,  right  back, 
straightens  cushions  in  chair,  left.) 

CLEM.  (Whispers.)  Cracky,  I  hope  I  ain't  waked 
her!  (Ambles  down  stage  on  his  tiptoes.)  She  ain't 
sick,  is  she? 

ELFRIDA.  No.  But  she 's  been  working  very  hard 
(indicates  table  and  work  on  chair)  getting  ready  for 
Christmas. 

CLEM.  (Walks  around  table,  fingering  things  curi- 
ously.) Nice,  ain't  it?  (Goes  to  chair,  right,  occupied  by 


8    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  1 

foils,  eyes  them,  starts  to  sit  down,  then  leans  against 
chair  instead.}  She's  great  on  making  presents, 
ain't  she?  Funny,  ain't  none  of  us  like  that,  and 
we've  had  seven  chances. 

ELFRIDA.  What  do  you  mean? 

CLEM.  Well,  they's  seven  of  us,  and  seems  as 
though  some  of  us  might  'a'  ben  borned  on  Christ- 
mas same 's  Carol.  (  Talks  fast.)  But  Ma  says  we  ain't 
none  o'  us  'xactly  what  you  might  call  Christmas- 
like,  though  Kitty  's  kind  o'  handsome.  (Reaches 
over  suddenly  and  grabs  up  one  of  the  dolls,  teas- 
ingly,  by  the  foot  and  lets  it  dangle.) 

ELFRIDA.  Clem! 

CLEM.  (Grins,  replaces  dott.)  It  did  n't  even  get  red 
in  the  face. 

ELFRIDA.  Did  you  want  to  see  Carol  about  any- 
thing special? 

CLEM.  She  told  me  to  come  (points  to  handkerchief 
in  window)  quick  as  ever  I  see  that  in  the  winder. 

ELFRIDA.  Oh !  do  you  know  what  for? 

CLEM.  Well  —  I  ain't  sure,  but  't  was  something 
about  Christmas  (eagerly)  —  something  'bout  a  let- 
ter (begins fingering  letters  on  table)  — maybe  it's  here. 

ELFRIDA.  (Takes  up  several  letters  just  as  he  reaches 
for  them.)  She's  written  a  good  many  to-day  —  but 
I'm  not  sure  they're  ready  to  go. 

CLEM.  I  '11  wait  and  see.  (Shoves  doll  to  one  side  in 
chair.)  Sit  along  there,  you!  (Squeezes  into  chair  beside 
doll,  takes  one  up  and  dances  it  on  his  knee.) 

ELFRIDA.  (Hands  him  book.)  Would  you  like  to 
look  at  this? 


ACT  1]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    9 

CLEM.  Thank  yer.  (Springs  up  suddenly,  doll  and 
book  rattling  to  the  floor.)  Cracky,  I  forgot,  I  can't 
wait.  I'm  busy,  got  a  job  running  errands  for  the 
drug-store  man  round  the  corner;  he's  promised  me 
fifty  cents  a  week  — 

ELFRIDA.  (Having  righted  the  dolls,  picks  up  large 
square  letter,  hesitates.}  Perhaps  Carol  meant  —  or, 
no,  you  'd  better  come  over  later. 

CLEM.  I  can't.  Maybe  I  can  git  Sarah  Maud  to, 
but  she's  awful  bashful  about  coming  here  to  the 
big  house.  She  thinks  'cause  we  live  in  the  back 
alley  we  had  n't  ought  to  make  free.  Ma  says  she 
ain't  got  no  American  spirit  at  all.  Bet  yer  life  / 
have!  I  ain't  scared  o'  nobody.  (Comes  up  beside 
Elfrida,  smiles  up  at  her,  and  his  hand  goes  up  slowly^ 
petitioningly  to  the  letter.)  Say,  can't  you  give  it  to 
me  now? 

ELFRIDA.  (Smiles  down  at  him,  lowers  her  hand  a 
little;  his  fingers  almost  clutch  the  letter.  Mrs.  Bird 
enters  right,  front.)  Here's  Carol's  mother  —  we'll 
ask  her.  You  know  Clem,  Mrs.  Bird?  —  Clem 
Ruggles? 

MRS.  BIRD.  (Crosses  to  center,  hand  held  out.)  Of 
course  I  know  Clem.  (Clem  is  uncertain  which  hand  to 
give,  shifts  from  foot  to  foot.)  How  are  you  and  the 
other  children  —  and  your  mother? 

CLEM  (choking) .  I  dunno !  Same  as  they  was,  I  guess. 

ELFRIDA.  He's  come  for  a  letter  Carol  told  him  to 
get  (with  meaning)  —  I  thought  it  might  be  this  one. 
(Hands  large  square  one  to  Mrs.  Bird.  Mrs.  Bird  looks 
at  address,  then  takes  out  card,  reads.) 


10   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL  [ACT  1 

CLEM.  She  said  't  was  a  invitation  or  something 
I  was  to  "deliver"  for  her.  (Pause.) 

MBS.  BIRD.  (Walks  up  stage,  then  back.)  No — • 
we're  not  sure  yet,  that  this  is  to  go.  (Puts  it  down  on 
table,  sees  other  one,  picks  it  up.) 

ELFBIDA.  That's  the  letter  to  the  organist  at  the 
church  asking  him  to  play  Carol's  song  on  Christmas 
evening. 

MBS.  Brno.  This  must  be  the  one,  then,  she  wants 
you  to  take  for  her  if  you  will,  please?  (Holds  it  out.) 

CLEM  (without  seeing  the  letter).  Y-e-s,  but  — 

MBS.  BIBD.  I  think  you'll  find  the  organist  in  the 
church  practicing. 

CLEM.  She  said  something  'bout  a  party  or  — 
or  — 

MBS.  BIBD.  A  Christmas  celebration  —  (Clem 
nods.)  This  is  it  —  she's  asking  the  organist  to  help 
her  celebrate  her  birthday  by  having  his  choir  sing 
"  Carol,  Brothers,  Carol."  That  is  the  song  that  made 
me  name  her  Carol;  —  did  n't  she  ever  tell  you  about 
that?  But  if  you  have  n't  time  — 

CLEM.  (Takes  the  letter.)  'Course  I'll  take  it. 

(Mrs.  Bird  hands  him  some  money.  He  takes 
it,  looks  at  it,  starts  to  hand  it  back,  then 
slowly  puts  it  in  his  pockety  turns  to  go  out 
window.) 

ELFBIDA  (at  the  door).  This  way,  please,  Clem. 
(He  hesitates,  smiles  broadly,  and  exits  by  the  door.) 
Funny  little  fellow  —  but  so  good  to  his  brothers 
and  sisters  —  and  the  brightest  one  of  the  seven. 

MBS.  BIBD  (looking  at  the  large  envelope).  Do  you 


ACT  1]  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    11 

think  Carol  has  set  her  heart  on  having  them  here  for 
Christmas  dinner? 

ELFRIDA  (crossing  to  table) .  She 's  full  of  plans  for  it. 

MRS.  BIRD.  I  was  afraid  so. 

ELFRIDA  (hesitatingly).   Don't  you  like  the  idea? 

MRS.  BIRD.  Yes,  I  do  —  but  —  do  you  think  she 
is  strong  enough  to  have  so  many  children  here  — 

ELFRIDA.  I  'm  sure  it  would  do  her  a  lot  of  good.  I 
wonder  if  we  quite  realize  how  much  she  enjoys 
those  children!  She  sits  up  here  in  her  window  by  the 
hour  watching  them  at  play  down  there  (Mrs.  Bird 
walks  up  stage  to  the  window)  in  their  bit  of  yard,  and 
has  just  as  much  fun  as  though  she  were  romping 
with  them.  They're  her  proxies,  as  it  were.  (Pause.) 
I  must  say  I  'm  growing  fond  of  the  Ruggleses  too. 

MRS.  BIRD.  I  believe  I  am,  myself.  (Walks  down 
stage.)  I  suppose  it  is  because  they  are  so  hearty  and 
full  of  life.  They  have  nothing  and  Carol  almost 
everything,  yet  we  cannot  give  her  the  one  thing 
lacking. 

ELFRIDA.  She  has  never  been  anything  but  con- 
tented, but  she  has  certainly  been  brighter  and  hap- 
pier since  this  friendship  with  the  Ruggles  children 
began. 

MRS.  Brno.  Men  are  n't  so  democratic  as  women, 
Elfrida,  and  Carol's  father  is  n't  wholly  pleased  at 
her  interest  in  them.  If  I  ask  him  about  the  dinner, 
I'm  sure  he'll  say  no,  and  Carol  will  be  disappointed. 
If  I  don't  ask  him  and  do  let  her  have  them  here,  his 
Christmas  will  be  spoiled! 

ELFRIDA.  Why  not  let  Carol  ask  him  herself  ? 


12    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT! 

MRS.  Brno.  You  think  he  won't  be  able  to  say  no 
to  her? 

ELFRIDA.  I  think  he'd  realize,  perhaps,  how  fond 
she  is  of  the  Ruggleses. 

MRS.  BIRD.  Yes  —  maybe.  (Puts  invitation  back  on 
table.)  Oh,  Elfrida,  do  you  happen  to  remember 
where  we  put  that  tall  silver  vase,  the  one  Carol 
calls  Uncle  Jack's  ?  I  want  to  put  the  flowers  in  his 
room  before  he  arrives. 

ELFRIDA.  Has  he  come  already? 

MRS.  BIRD.  He  has  just  telephoned  from  the  dock. 

ELFRIDA.  Carol  will  be  delighted.  You  were  n't 
expecting  him  until  this  evening,  were  you? 

MRS.  Brno.  No,  and  don't  tell  her  that  he's 
here,  please.  He  wants  to  surprise  her  and  he  can't 
come  to  the  house  at  once,  he  —  Elfrida,  did  you 
ever  hear  of  a  Dr.  Voss? 

ELFRIDA.  Dr.  Voss,  yes,  let  me  see  —  why,  you 
don't  mean  Dr.  Robert  Voss,  of  Berlin!  The  chil- 
dren's specialist? 

MRS.  BIRD  (nodding).  He's  a  miracle- worker!  So 
Jack  says. 

ELFRIDA.  Are  you  thinking  of  taking  Carol  to 
Germany? 

MRS.  BIRD.  No,  he's  in  this  country.  Jack  has 
brought  him  home  with  him. 

ELFRIDA.  How  splendid! 

MRS.  Brno.  I'm  not  sure  that  I  think  so.  (Pause) 
I  don't  want  Carol  to  hope  —  and  be  disappointed 
again.  I  shan't  force  her  to  see  him  if  she  does  n't 
feel  inclined. 


ACT  1]  THE  BIRDS*  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    13 

ELFRIDA.  Could  n't  you  let  him  come  without  let- 
ting Carol  know  why? 

MRS.  BIRD.  No;  she'd  suspect  at  once;  she  has  an 
uncanny  way  of  understanding  us  all  better  than  we 
do  ourselves.   I've  told  her  uncle  that  he  must  ask 
her  and  arrange  the  matter  himself. 
ELFRIDA.  But  if  the  doctor's  come  so  far  — 
MRS.  BIRD.  (Crosses  to  door.)    I  know,  but  I'm 
thinking  of  the  child.  Where  did  you  say  the  vase  is? 
ELFRIDA.    Oh,  it's  in  Mr.  Bird's  room,  with  the 
flowers  in  it.  Carol  arranged  them. 

MRS.  BIRD.   And  I  thought  she'd  forgotten!  I'll 
take  a  look  and  see  that  all  is  right. 
(Exit  Mrs.  Bird.) 
(Elfrida  is  busy  at  the  table.) 
(Sound  of  a  small  xylophone  is  heard.) 
(Elfrida  listens,  the  scale  is  sounded  again> 
quickly.) 

(Elfrida  crosses  to  door,  right,  back,  and  leaves 
it  open  as  she  hurries  into  the  room  beyond.) 
CAROL.    (Voice   laughing    and   teasing.)     If   you 
please,   Mistress  Elf-rida  (Carol  always  breaks  the 
name  when  she  is  happy  or  mischievous),  do  say  the 
time's  up!  Need  I  make-believe  sleep  any  longer? 
ELFRIDA.  Do  you  feel  rested? 
CAROL.  Rested!  how  can  I  when  I  was  n't  tired? 
Oh,  Elfrida,  please  let  me  walk  alone.    You  and 
mother  don't  realize,  I  think,  that  I  'm  growing  up. 
CAROL.    (Appears  in  door,  center,  leaning  on  crutch, 
Elfrida  following.)  Has  anybody  been  here?  (Walks 
slowly  to  chair,  left  of  table.) 


14   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  1 

ELFRIDA.  Clem  Ruggles. 

CAROL.  Oh,  has  he!  My  signal  worked  beauti- 
fully, did  n't  it?  Did  you  give  him  the  invitation? 
(Walks  to  the  table,  sees  it,  picks  it  up.}  You  did  n't. 
Oh,  why  not?  Was  n't  he  disappointed? 

ELFRIDA  (placing  rug  in  chair}.  I  didn't  know 
whether  the  dinner  was  quite  settled  — 

CAROL  (sitting  in  chair  as  Elfrida  tucks  her  in). 
Why,  of  course,  it's  settled. 

ELFRIDA.  Have  you  asked  your  father  about  it? 

CAROL.  Daddy?  He  won't  mind. 

ELFRIDA.  The  Ruggleses  aren't  exactly  —  fa- 
vorites with  your  father. 

CAROL.  Will  you  hand  me  Kitty's  doll,  please. 
I've  got  an  idea  for  her  dress.  (Elfrida  hands  her  doll 
and  cloth,  etc.  Sewing.}  I'm  sure  Daddy  wants 
everybody  to  be  happy. 

ELFRIDA.  Wanting  people  to  be  happy  is  quite 
different  from  inviting  them  to  your  house.  The 
Ruggleses  are  not  exactly  —  eligible  dinner  guests. 

CAROL.  What  is  "eligible"?  They 're  hungry ! 

ELFRIDA.  (Sits  right  of  table,  business  of  sewing  for 
doll.}  Asking  seven  children  to  dinner  is  n't  simple. 
Who  will  keep  them  amused? 

CAROL  (counting  on  her  fingers}.  Mother  (pulls 
back  thumb}  and  you  (first  finger}  and  Uncle  Jack. 
(Flips  her  right  hand  across  all  the  fingers  of  her  left 
hand.}  Why,  Uncle  Jack  could  keep  a  million  chil- 
dren amused. 

ELFRIDA.  Is  there  anything  that  Uncle  Jack 
can't  do  ? 


ACT  1]  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    15 

CAROL.  Nothing.  He's  just  perfect,  you'll  think 
so,  too.  Wait  until  you  've  seen  him. 

ELFRIDA.  I've  never  known  a  perfect  man,  but  — 

CAROL.  You  will  soon.  (Takes  letter  from  pocket  — 
a  thick  one  with  foreign  stamps.)  I  've  a  great  mind  to 
make  you  hear  his  letter  over  again.  That  would 
only  be  three  times!  (Slips  to  edge  of  her  chair.)  He's 
likely  to  come  any  minute  now.  (Laughs.)  Oh,  I'm 
so  happy  (moves  forward  as  though  to  stand)  —  if  I 
could  dance  I'd —  Dance  for  me,  Elfrida,  please; 
that 's  a  darling ! 

ELFRIDA.  Dance,  dear? 

CAROL.  Yes.  (Insistently.) 

(Elfrida  rises  uncertainly,  then  gives  a  few 
graceful  steps,  smiling  at  Carol,  who  grows  more 
and  more  impatient.) 

CAROL.  No,  no,  no !  Faster.  Whirl  and  whirl  and 
whirl!  (Jumps  to  her  feet,  starts  to  whirl,  fails; 
stands  quietly,  smiles  at  Elfrida.)  My  heart's  danc- 
ing, that'll  be  enough.  (Walks  thoughtfully  back  to 
chair,  left,  and  sits  down,  resuming  her  sewing.  Elfrida 
walks  up  stage  to  window.  Carol  leans  over,  opens 
small  trunk  beside  her  chair,  takes  out  doll  clothes  and 
tries  them  on  the  doll.)  Elfrida,  what  would  you  like 
most  for  Christmas? 

ELFRIDA.  What  would  I  like  most,  dear?  (Walks 
down  stage  and  stands  by  Carol's  chair,  looks  down  at 
her  longingly.)  I  'd  like  a  miracle. 

CAROL.  A  miracle  (looks  up  at  her) — what's 
that? 

ELFRIDA  (crossing  to  right).  You  can't  find  them  at 


16   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL  [ACT  1 

any  of  the  shops,  dear,  nowadays,  they're  out  of  date. 
People  don't  believe  in  them,  any  more. 

CAROL  (puzzled).  Oh!  well,  then,  what  else  would 
you  like? 

ELFRIDA.  (Comes  to  Carol's  chair;  takes  up  a  doll 
and  looks  at  it.)  Besides  the  miracle?  Well,  one  thing 
more,  perhaps,  but  I  'm  afraid  you  could  n't  get  it  in 
a  stocking. 

CAROL  (eagerly).  What  is  it? 

ELFRIDA  (reflectively;  not  looking  at  Carol,  but 
absent-mindedly  voicing  her  thoughts).  I  am  very  well 
contented,  but  if  I  really  long  for  anything  I  believe 
it's  —  a  home! 

CAROL  (in  surprise).  Why,  Elfrida!  You've  lived 
with  us  a  whole  year!  The  Bird's  Nest  is  your  home. 

ELFRIDA.  (Walks  center;  sits  by  table.)  Yes,  of 
course;  and  a  very  lovely  one  it  is,  too,  —  but  there's 
another  kind. 

CAROL.  You  mean  (softly)  where  there's  your  very 
own  father  and  mother? 

ELFRIDA.  Yes,  dear. 

CAROL.  Oh!  and  you  have  n't  any!  (After  a  trou- 
bled pause.)  But  there's  another  kind,  too,  Elfrida. 

ELFRIDA.  Yes? 

CAROL.  You  know,  when  Daddy  and  Mother 
built  this  home,  there  was  n't  any  father  or  mother 
in  it:  and  then,  after  a  while,  they  just  were  the  father 
and  mother. 

ELFRIDA  (amused).  Very  true. 

CAROL  (holding  up  doll  and  trying  on  hat).  Shall 
you  ever  be  married,  Elfrida? 


ACT  1]   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   17 

ELFRIDA.  -  How  should  I  know?  I  never  think 
about  it. 

CAROL  (severely).  If  you  don't  think  about  it,  per- 
haps you  won't  be! 

ELFRIDA.  Perhaps  the  Fairy  Prince  will  think  of  it 
first,  and  put  the  idea  into  my  head., 

CAROL.  There  seem  to  be  so  few  Princes,  now-a- 
days,  that  (stops;  smiles)  —  Does  it  make  any  dif- 
ference who  has  the  idea  first  —  the  Prince  or  the 
Princess? 

ELFRIDA  (laughingly).  They  say  it  makes  a  great 
difference. 

CAROL.  I  think  that's  silly.  If  two  people  are 
going  to  be  married,  I  don't  see  why  one  of  them 
has  n't  just  as  much  to  say  about  it  as  the  other.  — 
Could  another  person  —  have  the  idea,  first? 

ELFRIDA.  I  dare  say.  (Pause.)  But  why  are  you 
thinking  about  marriage  to-day,  Carol? 

CAROL.  Father  wants  Uncle  Jack  to  be  married. 
We  all  hate  to  have  him  off  in  India,  shooting. 
Mother  has  found  some  lovely  young  ladies  for  him. 
One  was  so  pretty !  and  one  gave  me  my  biggest  doll. 
(Elfrida  laughs.)  And  one  used  to  come  and  sing 
to  me.  Uncle  Jack  did  n't  like  her  voice.  He  told 
mother  she'd  never  make  a  Bird!  Mother  could  n't 
help  laughing;  but  she  scolded  Uncle  Jack.  You 
see,  he  stays  such  a  little  while  that  nothing  ever 
happens.  (Sighs.)  I  could  n't  help  thinking  how 
nice  —  you'd  be,  Elfrida! 

ELFRIDA  (sitting  erect).  My  dear  Carol!  You 
must  n't  plan  these  things  for  other  people. 


18    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL  [ACT  1 

CAROL.  Father  says  somebody  will  have  to  plan 
for  Uncle  Jack  because  he  '11  never  stop  to  think  about 
it  himself  (sighs) :  and  if  you're  going  to  be  the  same 
kind,  nothing  ever  will  happen!  I  would  n't  speak 
about  it,  of  course,  if  you  don't  want  me  to  (more 
brightly),  but  I  might  tell  him  to  notice  how  pretty 
you  look  in  your  new  fur  turban,  might  n't  I? 

ELFRIDA  (turning  to  center).  Certainly  not. 

CAROL.  I  don't  see  how  that  would  make  you 
uncomfortable.  Listen!  (Elf rida  turns  toward  door.) 
Maybe  that's  Uncle  Jack  now!  (Rises  and  crosses 
stage,  right.  Door  opens.)  O  Daddy !  I  thought  you 
were  Uncle  Jack. 

MR.  BIRD.  (Closes  door,  carefully;  then  goes  to  Carol 
and  takes  her  hand.  They  walk  center  stage.  His  speech 
is  laconic,  and  he  has  an  air  of  aristocratic  self-satis- 
faction, but  he  is  a  typically  affectionate  father.)  Dis- 
appointed that  I'm  not  ? 

CAROL  (swinging  his  hands) .  Of  course  not :  though 
I  did  hope  it  was  Uncle  Jack,  because  —  we'd  been 
talking  about  him.  (A  teasing  glance  at  Elfrida.  Mr. 
Bird  scans  Elfrida.) 

ELFRIDA  (embarrassed  by  Mr.  Bird's  look).  Shall  I 
put  the  table  away,  Carol? 

CAROL.  Yes,  please.  (Elfrida  pushes  the  table  back, 
center,  and  is  busy  sorting  and  putting  away  the  letters, 
papers,  etc.) 

MR.  BIRD  (with  a  short  wave  of  the  hand  toward  the 
table).  Christmas? 

CAROL  (laughing).  Yes.  Do  sit  down,  Daddy. 
(Pushes  him  into  chair  and  climbs  into  his  lap.)  I 


ACT  1]  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    19 

can't  talk  to  you  when  your  face  is  so  far  from  mine. 
(Snuggles  her  face  to  his;  he  pats  her  on  shoulder,  awk* 
wardly.)  You  see  (slowly),  Daddy,  Christmas  is  only 
a  week  away,  and  — 

MB.  BIRD  (taking  out  his  bill-case  and  smiling  as  he 
opens  it).  How  much  do  you  need? 

CAROL.  It  is  n't  money. 

ELFRIDA  (from  the  window).  The  children  have 
come  home  from  school,  Carol. 

(Carol  slips  from  her  f other1  s  knee  and  goes 
quickly  to  the  window;  opens  it;  waves  both  her 
hands.  There  is  a  shout  of  "Hello,  Carol"  Mr. 
Bird  straightens  and  frowns.) 

CAROL.  Oh,  Daddy,  do  come  and  see  the  funny 
dears ! 

MR.  BIRD  (grimly).  Thank  you,  I'd  rather  not. 
(Pause.)  And  I  wish  you  would  n't  -i— 

(Carol  turns  from  window,  which  is  left  open.) 

CAROL.  Would  n't  what,  Father? 

MR.  Brno.  Would  n't  encourage  those  noisy  — 

CAROL.  (Comes  down  stage;  stands  between  father 
and  window.)  They're  never  noisy  (a  loud,  long  howl. 
Elfrida  closes  window  quickly.  Mr.  Bird  frowns)  — 
or  almost  never. 

MR.  BIRD.  Perhaps  —  not  (grimly)',  but  they're  a 
nuisance. 

CAROL.  (Comes  slowly  forward,  puzzled  by  her 
father's  manner.  She  puts  left  hand  on  his  shoulder 
and  perches  on  the  arm  of  chair.)  They  always  look  up 
here  and  ask  before  they  begin  to  play:  don't  they, 
Elfrida? 


to   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  1 

ELFRIDA  (from  the  window).  Yes,  Mr.  Bird;  they 
are  really  very  careful.  If  I  shake  my  head  "no," 
that  means  Carol  has  a  headache,  and  they  play  a 
game  Sarah  Maud  invented  and  calls  the  "Deaf  and 
Dumb  School." 

MR.  BIRD  (grudgingly).  That  is  rather  nice  of  them. 

CAROL.  You'd  like  them  if  you  once  knew  them, 
Daddy.  That's  one  reason  I  want  them  to  come  to 
dinner,  Christmas,  so  — 

MR.  Brno.  (Rises.)  To  dinner,  Christmas,  those 
alley  neighbors? 

(Elfrida  exits.') 

CAROL  (coming  down  stage  eagerly).  Yes,  won't  it 
be  fun?  You  called  them  neighbors  yourself,  even 
if  they  do  live  in  the  alley. 

MR.  BIRD.  Not  —  all  those  Ruggleses? 

CAROL.  Of  course,  all  of  them.  (Picks  up  square 
envelope.)  I  say  particularly  (reads):  "Sarah  Maud, 
Peter,  Peoria,  Kitty,  Clem,  Cornelius,  and  Larry." 

MR.  BIRD.  You  have  n't  invited  them  —  yet? 

CAROL.  No-o — 

MR.  BIRD.  Then  don't. 

CAROL.  Don't?  Why,  Daddy? 

MR.  Brno.  Because  —  because  —  (crosses  to  left, 
abruptly)  —  because  —  well,  Christmas  is  your  birth- 
day and  belongs  to  the  family. 

CAROL.  (Slight  pause,  then,  slowly.)  Christmas  is 
Christ's  birthday  too;  would  n't  that  make  it  belong 
to  his  family? 

MR.  BIRD  (with  resignation).  I  suppose  so. 

CAROL.  (Crosses  to  her  father,  plays  with  buttons  on 


ACT  1]  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   21 

his  coat.)  His  family  —  is  all  the  families  —  every- 
where, is  n't  it? 

MR.  BIRD.  (Turns  away  uncomfortably.')  In  a  way, 
yes.  (Quickly.)  I  don't  mean,  Carol,  that  you  're  not  to 
send  them  something — send  them  a  dinner  in  a  basket. 

CAROL   (coaxingly).    A  basket  isn't  Christmasy 

—  I  want  them  to  have  a  real  Christmas,  this  year, 
Daddy.    Their  father  is  away,  and  —  name  is  right 
here,  close  to  me,  —  please ! 

MR.  BIRD.  (Hesitates.    There's  a  howl  outside.  He 
stiffens.)  No,  no,  Carol,  it  won't  do.  (Quickly.)  But 
I'll  buy  you  anything  you  want  — 
CAROL.  You  can't  buy  what  I  want. 

(Mr.  Bird  steps  to  her  quickly,  puts  his  hand  out 
toward  her.) 

MR.  BIRD.  You  mean  — 

CAROL.  (Stands  before  table.)  I  only  mean,  Daddy, 
that  I  want  to  share  Christmas  with  the  Ruggleses 

—  and  buying  and  sending  is  n't  sharing. 

MR.  BIRD.  Well  —  I—  (Enter  Mrs.  Bird.  Eagerly.) 
Here's  mother.  I'll  talk  it  over  with  her. 

CAROL  (shaking  her  head  at  her  father  and  laughing 
at  him).  Oh,  if  mother  is  to  be  the  umpire,  it's  my 
game! 

MRS.  BIRD.  (Stands  right  of  Carol,  holding  her 
hand.)  Carol!  You've  been  hearing  your  brothers 
talk  baseball. 

MR.  BIRD.  Remember,  little  girl,  I  did  n't  say  I'd 
leave  it  to  mother.  I  merely  said  — 

CAROL.  Mother,  Daddy  thinks  the  Ruggleses 
don't  belong  to  a  family  party. 


22   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL  [ACT  1 

MRS.  BIRD.  Need  we  discuss  this  now,  Donald? 

MR.  BIRD.  It  becomes  a  simple  question  of 
whether  the  rear  family  is  to  be  given  a  slight 
pleasure  at  the  expense  of  my  great  displeasure.  It  '3 
the  Ruggleses  or  me. 

MRS.  BIRD.  Donald,  please!  (Shakes  her  head  at 
him  and  with  a  nod  indicates  Carol's  disappointment.) 

CAROL.  Of  course,  Daddy,  if  you  make  us  choose, 
but  why  do  you  put  it  that  way? 

MRS.  Brno  (cheerily).  He  does  n't  put  it  that  way, 
dear.  And  if  he  did,  perhaps  seven  little  Ruggleses 
tumbled  into  the  scale  on  one  side  could  outweigh 
even  Daddy,  big  as  he  is.  But  that  is  n't  the  question 
at  all,  the  question  is  —  are  n't  you  forgetting  about 
dressing  for  Uncle  Jack?  Was  n't  it  part  of  the  great 
welcome  to  be  wearing  the  gown  he  sent  you  from 
China,  last  Christmas? 

CAROL.  Oh,  yes,  yes!  (Her  fingers  tremble  with 
excitement  as  she  begins  to  unfasten  her  dress,  turning 
toward  the  door.)  Is  Uncle  Jack  coming  now? 

MR.  BIRD  (continuing  the  argument).  I  suppose 
the  Ruggles  woman  has  a  good  heart;  but  she  gets  on 
my  nerves,  she 's  so  active  and  bustling.  I  don't  be- 
lieve she  ever  sleeps  or  stops  talking  or  rolls  down 
her  sleeves.  She  's  worse  than  the  children.  And 
now,  this  dinner  idea! 

MRS.  BIRD.  You  don't  want  it,  then? 

MR.  Brno  (fussily).  I  certainly  do  not  I  I'd  be 
willing  to  send  a  turkey  or  a  ham  over  there  once  a 
week,  —  anything  but  see  them  eat  it! 

MRS.  BIRD.  And  Carol  wants  to  "see  them  eat  it.*' 


ACT  1]  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   23 

Remember  Donald,  dear,  there  may  not  be  —  so 
many  Christmases  —  for  her. 

MR.  BIRD.  (Looks  at  her,  troubled;  steps  to  her;  puts 
his  hand  on  her  shoulder,  tenderly.)  Don't  you  sup- 
pose I'm  thinking  of  the  child,  too,  Mary?  But  I 
don't  like  these  intimacies  with  rear  houses. 

MRS.  BIRD.  The  world  will  never  be  wiser  or  hap- 
pier till  the  front  houses  and  the  rear  houses  know 
each  other  better. 

MR.  BIRD.  Very  pretty,  but  not  practical,  my  dear 
Mary.  ...  I  sometimes  think  I'll  buy  the  property 
and  build  a  conservatory  there.  It  will  be  a  pleasant 
way  of  getting  rid  of  all  the  clutter,  besides  giving 
Carol  something  beautiful  to  look  at. 

MRS.  BIRD.  A  conservatory  in  place  of  the  Rug- 
gleses!  O  Donald,  you  are  so  amusing! 

MR.  Brno.  I  don't  see  it.  Any  person  of  taste 
would  prefer  flowers  to  — 

MRS.  BIRD.  Children,  Donald? 

MR.  BIRD.  Er — ah  —  well,  not  exactly  to  children, 
of  course,  that  is  if  they  are  clean  and  well  dressed. 

MRS.  BIRD.  That  is  n't  it.  Carol  needs  just  what 
these  strong,  healthy  — 

MR.  BIRD.  You  might  as  well  say  that  a  lawn 
needs  dandelions.  I  'm  not  sure  but  that  they  ought 
to  be  taken  out  roots  and  all  —  these  dandelions. 

MRS.  BIRD.  Please,  Donald;  not  at  Christmas 
time!  You  could  n't  be  so  cruel. 

MR.  Brno.  I  should  n't  put  salt  on  their  roots. 
I  'd  see  that  they  were  planted  in  another  place  — -  a 
long  way  from  here. 


24    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL  [ACT  1 

MRS.  BIRD.  In  the  mean  time  shall  we  say  "yes" 
to  the  dinner? 

MB.  BIBD.  Do  as  you  like;  and  if  they  continue  to 
keep  their  place,  well  and  good,  but  if  they  don't,  I  '11 
uproot  them  —  and  plant  roses.  (The  door,  right, 
opens  stealthily.  Sarah  Maud  and  Larry  enter  timidly; 
they  come  to  center.  Mr.  Bird  watches  their  approach 
with  amazement.)  Here  they  are,  the  dandelions! 

MRS.  Brno.  (Turns  in  surprise  and  stands  looking  at 
Sarah  Maud,  whose  eyes  do  not  meet  hers,  and  at 
Larry,  who  stares  wonderingly  in  return.)  It's  Sarah 
Maud  and  Larry. 

MR.  Brno.  (Crosses  to  window,  left;  speaks  with  im- 
patience.) They'd  smell  the  same  by  any  other 
name:  but  at  any  rate,  they're  here! 

(Mrs.  Bird  crosses  to  right  of  Larry  and  Sarah 
Maud,  and  begins  to  unwrap  Larry.  Mr.  Bird 
turns  and  watches  the  performance  with  evident 
displeasure.  Larry  clings  tightly  to  Sarah  Maud's 
hand,  watching  her  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes. 
He  is  a  mass  of  clothing,  the  distinguishing  fea- 
tures being  a  knitted  red  comforter  at  least  two 
yards  long  wound  around  his  person  from  chin  to 
waist,  underneath  which  is  a  tight  woolen  sweater. 
He  wears  a  knitted  cap.  As  Mrs.  Bird  unwraps 
the  comforter,  Larry  turns  clumsily,  and  threatens 
a  tumble  each  time.  Sarah  Maud  stands  by,  too 
terrorized  to  speak.  Mr.  Bird  puffs  out  his  cheeks 
and  presses  his  lips  together  as  he  watches  Mrs. 
Bird  unwind  Larry  and  lift  his  cap  from  his  head. 
Larry's  hair  stands  stiffly  erect  when  released,  and 


ACT  1]  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   25 

a  smile  spreads  itself  over  his  chubby  face.  Mrs. 
Bird  takes  hold  of  bottom  of  sweater,  and  Larry 
lifts  his  pudgy  arms.  The  sweater  is  quickly  lifted, 
and  Sarah  Maud  steps  forward  in  timid  protest 
as  a  patched  and  darned  undershirt  is  revealed. 
Mrs.  Bird  quickly  lowers  the  sweater;  then  rises 
from  her  knees.  Larry  moves  slowly  toward  Carol's 
chair.) 

SARAH  MAUD  (finding  a  voice).  We  can't  stop 
more'n  a  minute,  'cause  —  'cause  it's  so  late. 

(Mr.  Bird  turns;  sees  Larry  climbing  into 
Carol's  chair  and  waves  his  hand  at  him  warn- 
ingly.  Larry  looks  at  him  in  amazement,  leaves 
chair  and  slowly  backs  up  stage  to  window.  Mr. 
Bird  turns  away  and  watches  Sarah  Maud.  Larry 
stands  before  the  window;  sees  the  handkerchief; 
tries  to  reach  it;  cannot;  drags  a  three-legged  stool 
to  the  window.) 

MB.  BIRD.  Did  Carol  send  for  you  to  come  this 
afternoon? 

(Larry  climbs  on  to  stool.) 

SARAH  MAUD  (slowly).  No,  m'm  —  er  —  sir;  she 
did  n't  send  —  (Mr.  Bird  nods  to  Mrs.  Bird  in  a 
"you  see"  manner.  Larry  reaches  up  for  the  handker- 
chief.) Clem  thought  (stammeringly)  —  Clem  thought 
—  maybe —  you  see  — 

(Larry  tumbles  from  stool,  and  the  crash  inter' 
rupts  the  conversation.  Sarah  Maud  hurries  to 
pick  him  up.  As  she  stands  Larry  on  his  feet 
again,  he  gasps  but  clings  to  the  handkerchief,  and 
is  about  to  cry.  He  looks  up  and  sees  Mrs.  Bird 


*6   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  1 

holding  out  a  bit  of  fruit  to  him;  he  smiles  expan- 
sively ;  steps  forward;  takes  the  fruit  and  sits 
serenely  upon  the  stool  which  Sarah  Maud  has 
righted  and  placed  slightly  down  stage,  center. 
Sarah  Maud  stands  right,  Mrs.  Bird  left,  Mr. 
Bird  left  front.) 

MR.  Brno  (looking  at  Larry,  closely).  What  is  that 
he's  picked  up? 

SARAH  MAUD  (trembling).  I  —  don't  know,  sir; 
it —  (Goes  to  Larry  and  with  some  difficulty  opens 
his  hand;  takes  out  the  handkerchief  and  holds  it 
up.) 

MR.  BIRD.  Why,  it's  that  Japanese  silk  thing 
Jack  sent  me.  Upon  my  word!  (Gesture  of  "That 
settles  it  I"  with  both  hands.) 

MHS.  BIRD.  He's  such  a  little  fellow,  Don. 
MR.  Brno.    (Frowns   and  walks  to  door,  right.) 
Perhaps  now  you  will  acknowledge  that  I  was  right, 
Mary. 

(Mr.  Bird  stops  at  door,  looks  at  Mrs.  Birdt 

then  hurries  out  and  the  door  slams  after  him. 

Mrs.  Bird  is  right  front.   Larry  sits  on  the  stool, 

contentedly     gnawing    his  fruit.     Sarah    Maud 

stands  beside  him,  suffering  great  embarrassment. 

Not  understanding  the  handkerchief  episode,  she 

studies  it  carefully,  folds  it  into  a  small  square, 

tiptoes  down  stage,  and  puts  it  in  Carol's  chair. 

Mrs.  Bird  stands  by  the  chair.) 

SARAH  MAUD  (apologetically).  He  did  n't  mean  no 

harm,  Larry  didn't,  Mrs.  Bird.    He  —  he  —  allus 

likes  bright  things,  and  — 


ACT  1]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   27 

MRS.  BIRD.  Sit  down,  Sarah  Maud;  I  want  to  talk 
to  you.  (Sarah  Maud  drops  into  a  chair,  right. 
Mrs.  Bird  sits,  left,  in  Carol's  chair.  Larry  is  cen- 
ter, up  stage,  and  always  in  sight,  always  munching, 
his  eyes  beatific.)  Carol  tells  me  you  have  lived  in  a 
great  many  places. 

SARAH  MAUD.  Yessum. 

MRS.  Brno.  And  find  it  easy  to  make  a  home  in  a 
new  place,  I  suppose? 

SARAH  MAUD  (blankly').  Yessum. 

MRS.  BIRD.  We  were  thinking  we  might  help  you 
to  find  a  more  comfortable  house  than  the  one  you 
have  now. 

(Pause.  Sarah  Maud,  who  has  been  tying  knoti 
in  her  dress,  looks  up  and  finds  Mrs.  Bird  watching 
her.) 

SARAH  MAUD  (dully).  Yessum. 

MRS.  BIRD  (planning) .  For  instance  —  a  cozy  lit- 
tle house  with  a  garden  and  a  place  where  you  could 
keep  chickens  would  be  nice,  would  n't  it?  (Pause.) 

SARAH  MAUD.  (Straightens  slightly.)  Yessum, 
though  we  ain't  no  egg  eaters. 

MRS.  BIRD.  Your  mother  would  like  a  place 
where  —  (Sarah  Maud  looks  at  her)  —  the  children 
would  have  more  room  to  play?  Would  n't  she? 

SARAH  MAUD.  (Sits  very  erect;  speaks  now  very 
slowly,  and  her  "  Yes"  means  "no.")  Yessum. 

MRS.  BIRD.  You  would  find  it  so  much  more  com- 
fortable than  living  in  the  rear.  (With  a  look  toward 
the  window.  Sarah  Maud  watches  her  with  much 
trouble.  Pause.) 


28   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  1 

SARAH  MAUD  (nervously).  Y-e-s.  (Pause,  then 
courageously.)  No.  (Pause.)  There  ain't  no  other 
place  so  good  as  our'n.  (Sits  again,  slowly.) 

MRS.  BIRD.  (Leans  her  elbow  on  the  arm  of  chair.) 
Then  you  —  like  to  live  (pause)  —  here! 

SARAH  MAUD  (eagerly).  There 's  allus  a  lot  goin* 
on  in  the  back  o'  this  house,  an'  it 's  Carol  makes  us 
like  it.  It's  the  winder-school  in  summer  time;  us 
on  the  coach-house  roof  and  her  up  hi  the  winder  — 
an*  lots  o*  things  like  that;  an*  Ma  says  her  light, 
up  here,  is  company  for  her  when  she's  mendin', 
nights. 

(Pause;  Mrs.  Bird  sighs.  Sarah  Maud  sidles  to 
very  edge  of  chair,  nervously.) 
SARAH  MAUD.  I  —  guess  I  'd  better  be  a-goin'. 
MRS.  BIRD.    (Rises.)   Won't  you  wait  for  Carol? 
She's  getting  ready  for  her  Uncle  Jack  who's  coming 
from  India.  She  has  n't  seen  him  for  three  years  and 
it's  a  great  event.  (Sarah  Maud  rises  quickly.) 

SARAH  MAUD.  No 'm,  I  must  n't  wait.  (Hurries  to 
door,  right.) 

MRS.  BIRD  (following  behind,  calls  after  her  kindly). 
I'll  tell  Carol  you  were  here.  (Opens  door;  Sarah 
Maud  rushes  out;  Mrs.  Bird  follows.) 

(When  the  door  is  held  open,  there  is  the  sound 
of  a  clanging  house  door,  of  a  carriage  leaving,  a 
murmur  of  voices  in  greeting;  not  too  loud,  as 
Carol  is  supposed  not  to  hear  them.  As  the  door 
closes,  Larry  looks  up,  starts  to  rise,  settles  back 
and  finishes  eating  his  fruit.  Voices  outside,  and 
a  happy  laugh  by  Uncle  Jack.) 


ACT  1]   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   29 

UNCLE  JACK.  (Outside.  A  hud,  clear,  genial  tone.) 
No;  don't  come  up.  I  don't  want  any  gooseberries  at 
this  interview.  Keep  out  of  the  way,  Donald.  (Larry 
rises  slowly;  wrinkles  up  his  face  preparatory  to  weep- 
ing; looks  about;  gasps;  discovers  the  fruit  plate.  His 
hand  is  almost  touching  it,  when  the  door,  right,  opens  and 
Uncle  Jack  enters.  Larry  hesitates;  listens;  then  a  broad 
smile  appears  on  his  face.  He  then  turns  slowly  and 
faces  Uncle  Jack,  who  stands  watching  the  performance 
with  amusement.  As  Larry  turns,  Jack  comes  forwardt 
and  the  two  stand,  center  stage,  looking  at  each  other.) 
Well,  well!  (Holds  out  his  hand.)  How  do  you  do,  sir? 
(Larry  studies  the  hand;  retreats  a  step;  then  slowly 
moves  the  hand  which  holds  the  banana  until  it  is  quite 
out  of  danger.  Jack  laughs.)  You'd  rather  not  shake? 
I  don't  know  but  that  you  're  right.  How  can  you 
tell  that  I  'm  not  a  banana-snatcher?  I  say,  —  would 
you  mind  telling  me  who  you  are?  (Pause.)  Of 
course,  it  is  a  bit  stupid  of  me  not  to  know,  but  — 
do  you  happen  to  be  any  kind  of  a  Bird —  near  rela- 
tive, or  adopted? 

LARRY  (full-throatedly) .  I'm  —  a  —  boy. 

JACK.  (Laughs.)  Indeed?  I  might  almost  have 
guessed  it.  You  see,  kiddie,  I'm  Uncle  Jack.  Do 
you  happen  to  live  here?  —  or  are  you  just  about 
collecting  fruit? 

LARRY.  Her  guv  me  one.  (Holds  the  banana  out  to 
Jack.) 

JACK.  (Takes  the  fruit;  examines  it,  watching  Larry 
out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes.)  Oh,  did  she?  (Larry 
nods  and  looks  anxious.)  Then  I'm  quite  sure  she 


SO   THE  BIRDS*  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  1 

would  like  you  to  have  this  one  also.  (Hands  another 
banana  to  Larry,  who  takes  it,  smiles,  and  walks  back 
to  his  stool  and  sits  there,  eating.  Jack  laughs  aloud.') 
By  George,  you're  perfect! 

(Carol  stands  in  door,  right,  back.) 

CAROL.  Uncle  Jack!  Uncle  Jack!!  Uncle  Jack  — 
O— h!! 

JACK.  (Turns  quickly;  leaps  to  Carol;  takes  her  in  his 
arms  in  a  great  hungry  hug.)  My  little  Carol !  (Holds 
her  off  and  studies  her.)  How  you've  (his  voice 
catches)  —  grown! 

CAROL.  (Laughs  happily;  takes  him  by  the  hand  and 
leads  him  down  stage.)  Why  did  n't  they  tell  me? 
Oh!  you  look  just  the  same,  dearest,  dearest  Uncle 
Jack!  When  did  you  come? 

JACK.  (When  she  is  not  looking  his  face  is  sad;  but  he 
smiles  at  her.)  This  very  minute.  I  came  first  to  you. 
(Holds  her  off,  inspecting  her.)  Why,  you  're  wearing 
my  dressing-gown!  You  might  be  the  Empress  of 
China! 

LARRY.  (Comes  down  stage  to  Carol;  pulls  her  dress 
to  attract  her  attention.)  Home! 

CAROL.  (To  Jack.)  WTiy,  there's  Larry  Ruggles! 

LARRY.  Home! 

CAROL.  Please  call  Elfrida,  Uncle  Jack. 

JACK.  The  house  bristles  with  strangers  —  Who 
is  Elfrida?  Another  Ruggles? 

CAROL  (reproachfully).  You  know;  Elfrida,  who 
takes  care  of  me.  She's  in  my  room.  (Points  to  door, 
right  back.) 

JACK.    Of  course  —  Elfrida,   the   nurse.    Kind, 


ACT  1]  THE  BIRDS*  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   31 

faithful,  fat,  comfortable    Elfrida!    (Steps  to  door; 
opens  it;  calls  jauntily.)   Elfrida,  Elfrida! 

(Elfrida  appears  in    the  door  and  smiles  at 
Jack,  who  stops,  confused  and  apologetic.) 

ELFRIDA  (laughing).  You  —  called  me? 

JACK.  Did  I?  Er  —  yes,  of  course;  Miss  —  er  — 
Carol  wants  you. 

(Elfrida  crosses  to  Carol.  Jack  stands  in  door- 
way, watching  her,  stroking  his  chin  reflectively.) 

CAROL.  Larry  wants  to  go  home,  Elfrida.  Will 
you  do  him  up,  please,  and  take  him? 

ELFRIDA.  Come,  Larry.  Where  are  — 

JACK  (stepping  forward  quickly  and  gathering  up  the 
shawl  and  cap  from  a  chair).  The  wrappings?  Is  this 
some  of  it?  (Hands  comforter  to  Elfrida,  who  takes 
it,  kneels  before  Larry,  and  begins.) 

CAROL.  Oh!  Elfrida,  I  forgot!  this  is  Uncle 
Jack. 

ELFRIDA  (kneeling  before  Larry  and  winding  care- 
fully, looks  up  and  nods).  How  do  you  do,  Unc — 
Mr.  Bird? 

JACK.  (Laughs.)  May  I  —  assist  —  with  that? 
(Kneels  on  other  side  of  Larry  and  hinders  with  the  pro- 
cess by  holding  to  the  shawl.)  I've  the  idea!  You  hold 
the  shawl  tight,  and  I  '11  manipulate  the  boy  —  this 
way.  (Gives  Elfrida  end  of  shawl;  then  slowly  twirls 
Larry,  who  revolves  gravely.  Carol  stands  center,  just 
back  of  Larry.  Jack  is  right;  Elfrida  left.  Larry  is 
finally  swathed.  Jack  rises.)  There!  I  call  that  a 
good  job,  don't  you? 

CAROL  (laughing).  O  Uncle  Jack! 


82   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  1 

JACK.  This  is  the  first  golf  ball  I  ever  wound;  but 
I  understand  now  why  they  are  so  expensive. 

ELFRIDA.  (Slowly  crowds  on  Larry's  cap;  rises; 
takes  his  hand;  then  looks  at  Jack.)  Because  there  are 
so  many  layers? 

(Larry  is  looking  longingly  toward  the  fruit 
basket.    Jack  steps  quickly  to  it,  takes  up  a  pear 
and  hands  it  to  Larry.) 
JACK.  There,  old  man  —  with  my  compliments. 

(Larry's  little  fist  closes  over  it  delightedly.) 
ELFRIDA.  What  do  you  say,  Larry? 
LARRY  (decisively).  Home! 
ELFRIDA.  Come,  then;  we'll  go.  (Leads  him  out.) 

(Jack  holds  door  open.    Carol  stands,  center, 
watching  them  of.) 

JACK.  (Walks  to  center  of  stage.)  She's  a  very  pretty 
person  —  Elfrida;  not  at  all  like  a  "caretaker." 

CAROL  (delighted).  Yes,  isn't  she?  And  she  is 
awfully  good  to  me,  Uncle  Jack. 

JACK  (taking  her  hand).  Is  she,  indeed!  (Laughs.) 
Well,  that's  no  virtue.  Now,  can't  we  sit  down  and 
settle  a  few  of  the  world's  great  problems? 
CAROL.   (Laughs  at  him.)  Let's! 

(They  cross  to  left  to  large  chair  that  is  wide 
enough  for  both,  and  sit.) 

JACK.  Here  we  are  together  again!  Is  n't  it  jolly? 
Who  is  the  sweetest  Christmas  Carol  that  was  ever 
sung? 

CAROL  (promptly  and  laughingly).  I  am!  Oh, 
Uncle  Jack,  are  you  going  to  stay  at  home  this  time? 
Father  hopes  so. 


ACT  1]   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   33 

JACK  (pinching  her  cheek).  Father  does  n't  under- 
stand a  rolling  stone,  —  and  several  other  things. 
(Pause.) 

CAROL.  He  does  n't  understand  why  I  want  the 
Ruggleses  here  to  dinner  Christmas. 

JACK.  Ruggleses?  The  tribe  of  Larry?  (Laughs, 
points  toward  door.) 

CAROL.  Larry's  brothers  and  sisters.  They're 
awfully  nice  children. 

JACK.  Awfully  nice,  eh?  (Hums.)  "And  they  live 
in  our  alley."  (Whistles  or  sings  a  bit  of  "Sally  in  Our 
Alley.") 

"  She  is  the  darling  of  my  heart 
And  she  lives  in  our  alley." 

CAROL.  Oh,  do  it  again!  You  do  make  everything 
so  lovely  and  happy  and  Christmasy,  Uncle  Jack! 

JACK.  Thanks.  But  your  father,  dear,  could  n't 
have  seen  the  charm  even  of  my  Sally,  and  as  for 
your  Larry  —  and  his  brothers  and  his  sisters  and  his 
cousins  and  his  aunts,  I  can't  imagine  him  speaking 
to  them  even  through  a  telephone. 

CAROL.  (With  a  sigh.)  Oh,  dear.  I  wanted  them  to 
have  at  least  one  good  Christmas  and  — 

JACK.  By  George,  so  they  shall  if  your  mind  is  set 
upon  it.  Who  but  a  Christmas  child  should  decree 
what 's  to  be  done  on  Christmas  Day? 

CAROL.  But  if  Daddy  — 

JACK.  I '11  fix  it  up  with  Daddy.  All  that  ails  him 
is  he  thinks  it  is  n't  quite  what  would  be  expected  of  a 
family  in  our  position.  The  Ruggleses,  he  would  say, 
are  not  socially  our  equals. 


84   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  1 

CAROL  (puzzled).  You  mean  they  don't  live  in  a 
house  as  large  as  ours? 

JACK.  Well,  not  exactly,  but  they  don't  hold  their 
forks  in  the  same  way  that  we  do. 

CAROL.  I  'm  sure  Daddy  does  n't  care  about  that. 

JACK.  Perhaps  he  does  n't  really  care  about  it;  but 
it's  built  into  him,  because  he  was  born  in  a  large 
house,  where  there  was  only  a  small  family. 

CAROL.  So  were  you. 

JACK.  Yes  (laughs),  but  I  didn't  belong  there; 
Daddy  did. 

CAROL.  Where  did  you  belong? 

JACK  (tweaking  her  ear).  I  don't  know,  dear,  but  I 
think  I  should  have  been  dropped  into  a  gypsy  camp. 
I'm  a  rover;  a  ship  that  comes  into  port,  but  never 
stays  long,  because  no  anchor  ever  holds  against  the 
call  of  the  sea. 

CAROL  (longingly).  It  must  be  wonderful  —  the 
sea. 

JACK.  It  is.  I  '11  take  you  with  me  some  day  when 
you 're  stronger. 

CAROL.  Don't  you  like  to  travel  alone? 

JACK.  Pleasant  trips  are  pleasanter  trips  shared 
with  pleasant  people.  (Laughs  and  tweaks  her  curls.) 

CAROL  (joyfully).  Then  why  don't  you  get  mar- 
ried, Uncle  Jack?  And  you'd  always  have  somebody 
to  — 

JACK.  Choose  my  route  for  me.  No,  dear;  it  won't 
work.  You  must  grow  up,  get  well  and  strong,  and 
sail  about  the  world  with  me.  (Kisses  her  handsj 
That's  what  I'm  living  for  —  that  trip  of  ours. 


ACT  1]   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   35 

~ 

CAROL.  Are  n't  you  ever  lonesome? 

(Dusk  begins  to  creep  gradually  into  the  room.} 

JACK.  Never!  The  world  is  so  full  of  delightful 
people  that,  if  he's  winging  about,  even  a  duffer  like 
your  old  Nunky  gets  a  word  with  the  worth-while 
folks  now  and  then.  There  was  a  man  on  the  boat 
this  trip,  a  wonderful  chap;  (rises)  sometimes  I  think 
he's  the  greatest  chap  in  the  world.  (Pauses;  turns 
and  looks  at  Carol.}  I  asked  him  if  he'd  come  to  see 
us. 

CAROL.  (Sits  erect,  futt  of  interest.)  Oh,  Uncle  Jack! 
And  would  he? 

JACK.  He's  a  frightfully  busy  man  —  Dr.  Bob  is. 

CABOL  (disappointedly).  Doctor!  Is  he  a  doctor, 
Uncle  Jack? 

(Light  of  the  room  is  slightly  lessened,  and  the 
street  lights  shine  in  through  the  windows.) 

JACK.  Why,  yes,  dear.  Don't  you  like  doctors? 

CAROL  (slowly).  Y-e-s;  but  I've  known  so  many, 
I'm  almost  tired  of  them. 

JACK.  Dr.  Bob  is  different.  If  you'd  known  a  mil- 
lion others,  he  would  still  be  different.  (Rises  and 
steps  nervously  to  right;  then  he  turns  and  faces  Carol.) 
He  has  keen,  merry  eyes  that  look  at  you,  through 
you,  and  understand.  He  has  a  smile  that  says  to 
everybody,  " Cheer  up;  I've  come  to  help."  He  has  a 
strong,  kind  hand,  and  when  he  takes  yours  into  it, 
little  thrills  of  warmth  and  life  and  strength  run  all 
over  you. 

(Pause.) 

CAROL  (with  a  sigh).  Oh,  I  hope  he  will  come! 


86   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  1 

JACK.  He  will.  He  has  promised  that.  (Pause. 
Steps  nearer  her  chair.)  You  see  you  Ve  something 
he  would  like  to  get.  He  is  a  collector,  Dr.  Bob  is. 

CAROL.  So  is  Daddy.  First  he  collected  butterflies, 
then  postage  stamps,  and  now  it's  pipes.  What  does 
Dr.  Bob  collect  ? 

JACK.  Crutches. 

CABOL.  Crutches!  Oh,  Uncle  Jack,  how  can  he! 
Of  course  I  like  mine;  it  helps  me  walk.  But  a  lot 
of  crutches!  It  hurts  me  to  think  of  it.  (Pause. 
Jack  sits  on  arm  of  her  chair  and  puts  his  arm  about 
her.)  Mother  and  I  went,  the  other  day,  to  the  Chil- 
dren's Hospital  with  books  and  toys,  and  it  was 
lovely  at  first,  because  they  were  so  pleased  to  see 
us.  Then  I  noticed  the  crutches  by  the  beds,  and 
—  and  —  there  were  so  many,  Uncle  Jack  —  and 
limping  is  so  slow.  Try  as  hard  as  you  may,  the  other 
people  are  always  there  first. 

JACK.  (Meets  her  upturned  glance;  then  looks  away 
quickly.)  I  know,  dear,  I  know. 
(Pause.) 

CAROL.  (Slides  to  the  edge  of  chair  so  that  she  is  al- 
most standing;  holds  crutch  in  both  hands;  speaks 
softly.)  I  wish  I  could  give  Dr.  Bob  this  little  wooden 
helper;  but  even  if  I  could  n't  do  without  it,  I'd  like 
to  see  the  pile  grow  and  grow,  higher  and  higher;  the 
other  children  laying  their  crutches  on  the  heap  and 
then  running  and  dancing  away;  .  .  .  and  the  mothers 
would  all  be  there,  looking  on  —  so  happy !  .  . . 
(.Sigh.)  Would  n't  it  be  beautiful  to  see? 

JACK.  Yes,  Carol,  it  would  be  beautiful  to  see! 


ACT  1]  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   37 

CAROL.  (After  a  pause.)  When  will  Dr.  Bob  come, 
Uncle  Jack? 

JACK.  (Leans  over  her.)  Soon,  dear. 
CAROL.  To-morrow? 
JACK.  Yes,  to-morrow. 

(Brief  pause.  The  light  has  grown  dim.  Elfrida 
enters;  hesitates  at  the  door.  Jack  looks  up,  their 
eyes  meet  and  hers  are  held  by  the  trouble  in  his; 
she  involuntarily  steps  toward  him.) 
CAROL.  Is  that  you,  Elfrida? 
ELFRIDA.  (Crosses  to  the  other  side  of  Carol's  chair, 
Jack  being  on  one  side.}   Yes.   Are  you  all  right?  I 
need  n't  ask,  now  that  you  have  your  Uncle  Jack. 

CAROL  (happily.  Puts  out  one  hand  to  clasp  hers 
and  the  other  to  Jack,  as  they  stand  on  either  side  of  her 
chair  protectingly).  Oh!  what  a  beautiful  Christmas 
this  is  going  to  be!  I'm  almost  afraid  it  will  melt 
away,  like  a  rainbow!  Shall  we  hang  the  Christmas 
lantern  in  the  window,  Elfrida?  Is  n't  it  dark 
enough? 

(Elfrida  gets  the  lantern,  a  quaint  thing  of 
pierced  brass  and  hangs  it  where  the  flame  will 
shine  out  into  the  night.) 

JACK  (smiling  affectionately  at  Carol's  fancies). 
Is  it  to  light  the  Ruggleses  on  their  next  journey 
across  the  roof? 

CAROL.  No,  it's  to  please  Mrs.  Ruggles.  She  likes 
to  see  it  when  she's  mending  the  children's  clothes 
in  the  evening  —  and,  besides  —  you  won't  smile 
if  I  tell  you  something  Elfrida  read  in  a  book,  will 
you.  Uncle  Jack? 


38   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  1 

JACK.  Never! 

CAROL  (softly  and  looking  away  from  him).  The 
story  says  .  .  .  that  in  the  nights  just  before  Christ- 
mas .  .  .  the  Christ-Child  walks  through  the  streets 
.  .  .  and  ...  if  we  put  a  light  in  the  window  ...  he 
sees  the  way  better. 

(Elfrida  shows  that  she  has  heard,  and  the  lan- 
tern being  lighted  and  hung  she  looks  at  it  as  if, 
indeed,  it  might  guide  some  celestial  being  through 
the  darkness.  Uncle  Jack  draws  Carol  to  him 
and  kisses  her  hair.) 

SLOW  CURTAIN 


ACT  n 

SOME   OTHER    BIRDS    ARE    TAUGHT  TO   FLY 

SCENE:  The  kitchen  of  the  "house  in  the  rear"  It 
is  early  morning,  and  the  light  is  still  dim  even  when 
aided  by  a  kerosene  lamp.  The  walls  of  the  room  are  of 
any  dull  color  and  the  general  look  of  things,  though 
denoting  poverty,  need  not  be  sordid  or  untidy. 

To  the  right,  front,  is  a  door  leading  into  a  woodshed; 
in  the  rear  wall,  center,  is  a  door  leading  to  the  alley; 
to  the  right  and  left  of  this  are  narrow,  four-paned  win- 
dows partly  covered  by  sash  curtains.  In  the  left  wall, 
to  the  front,  is  a  door  leading  to  a  bedroom  and  the  stairs 
which  lead  to  the  upper  rooms. 

To  the  right,  front,  is  an  iron  sink  in  wooden  frame; 
before  it  stands  a  soap  box,  bottom  upwards.  A  dishpan 
hangs  on  the  side  toward  the  audience.  On  the  watt,  to 
right  of  sink,  is  a  cupboard.  In  line  with  the  sink,  to 
the  back,  is  a  small  cook  stove  in  which  a  bright  fire  is 
burning  and  on  which  are  placed  a  steaming  teakettle, 
an  iron  pot,  and  a  large  tin  boiler  pushed  to  the  back. 
Between  the  stove  and  the  sink,  toward  center  of  stage, 
is  a  small  kitchen  table  covered  by  a  brown  oil  cloth 
and  meagerly  set  with  dishes  —  a  large  pitcher,  bowls 
and  spoons,  a  bread-board,  and  a  syrup  pitcher.  There 
are  four  stiff  wooden  chairs  about  the  table.  A  small 
unlighted  lamp  is  on  the  table. 

In  the  left  corner,  back,  is  a  large  screen  fashioned 
qf  a  clotheshorse  covered  neatly  with  coarse  brown  denim 


40   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

or  burlap.  Beneath  the  screen  are  visible  the  solid  legs 
of  a  small  wooden  bed.  The  soft  sides  of  the  screen  bulge, 
after  the  opening  of  the  act,  with  the  pressure  of  small 
bodies  struggling  into  clothes. 

To  the  front,  left,  is  a  low  wooden  bureau.  Over  one 
corner  of  the  looking-glass  is  hung  a  heavy  chain  of  sea 
shells  to  which  is  attached  an  anchor  carved  from  bark. 
In  the  wall,  to  right  of  this,  is  a  colored  crayon  atrocity, 
at  least  twenty-seven  inches  square,  showing  a  stout 
ruddy  sailor  man  —  Mr.  Ruggles. 

Beside  the  bureau  stands  the  fifth  wooden  chair. 

To  left  of  stove  is  a  small  coal  hod. 

In  front  of  the  window,  right,  back,  is  a  small  wood 
box. 

Carol's  dinner  invitation  occupies  a  prominent  place. 

When  the  curtain  lifts,  Mrs.  Ruggles  is  at  the  door, 
left  front,  which  she  holds  open.  Plain,  comfortable 
figure,  no  eccentricities  of  dress,  bustling,  energetic, 
forcible,  but  never  for  a  moment  a  termagant.  If  her  tone 
is  occasionally  loud  or  strident,  it  is  because  of  hurry 
and  worry  and  flurry  and  her  overmastering  desire  to 
have  the  children  do  credit  to  the  family.  The  audience 
must  feel  that,  although  she  is  no  special  ornament  to 
society,  she  is  a  faithful  mother,  according  to  her  lights. 
Sarah  Maud  is  setting  a  pitcher  of  milk  on  the  table, 
then  gets  bread  out  of  cupboard. 

Peter  enters  from  the  woodshed  (door,  right  front) 
with  an  armful  of  wood  which  he  lets  fall  into  the  wood 
box  with  a  clatter. 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (calling).  Sakes  alive!  It's  Christ- 
mas Day!  Only  ten  hours  between  this  and  the  din- 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS*  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   41 

ner-party  and  you're  sleepin'  up  there  as  though  you 
had  n't  never  had  no  invitation!  Come,  I  say,  hurry 
down  here  an'  git  your  breakfast  There 's  plenty  to 
do,  for  all  of  us!  (Turns  and  sees  Sarah  Maud  at 
the  table.)  Where  's  Larry,  Sarah  Maud? 

SARAH  MAUD.  He  ain't  waked  up. 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (in  the  door,  left).  Peory,  you  git 
Larry  out  o'  bed  and  started  into  his  clothes. 

PEORIA  (off  stage,  voice  sleepy  and  protesting).  Oh, 
Ma,  it's  cold. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Cold!  O'  course  it's  cold  — 
Christmas  ain't  the  Fourth  of  July.  Move  lively  and 
you'll  warm  up!  (Sarah  Maud  has  put  the  bread  on 
the  table,  moves  slowly  across  stage  to  door,  left.) 
Where  are  you  a-goin'  ? 

SARAH  MAUD.  To  get  Larry;  breakfast's  ready. 

(Peter  is  at  the  table,  pouring  milk  into  bowl 

and  breaking  bread  into   it.    He  has  very  large 

pieces  and  when  his  mother  is  n't  looking,  picks 

up  the  bowl  and  drinks  out  of  it.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Stares  at  Sarah  Maud.)  You 
hain't  had  your  own  breakfast. 

SARAH  MAUD.  I  ain't  hungry,  very.  And  like  as 
not  Peory '11  get  on  Larry's  clothes  wrong  side  out. 

(Exit  Sarah  Maud,  door  left.  Behind  the  screen 
—  voices.) 

CLEMENT  (protesting).  It  ain't  my  turn!  I  got  up 
first  yesterday.  (Sound  of  a  scramble.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (reaching  over  top  of  screen).  See 
here,  Clem!  Cornelius!  Are  you  forgettin'  what 
morain'  this  is?  You  git  right  up,  both  of  you,  and 


42   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

I  don't  want  to  hear  nothin'  more  from  neither  of 
you. 

(Feet  appear  on  the  floor  and  the  bulging  of  the 
screen,  with  its  tottering,  threaten  castastrophe.) 

(Peter  finishes  breakfast,  takes  his  bowl  and 
spoon  and  puts  them  in  the  sink.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  goes  to  the  table,  cuts  off  a  slice 
of  bread,  butters  it,  and  eats  contentedly  and  ab- 
stractedly while  she  considers.  She  goes  to  the  line 
of  clothes,  feels  the  garments,  takes  them  down  and 
rolls  them  as  she  does  so,  putting  them  on  the  iron- 
ing-board, which  she  puts  in  place  from  sink  to 
back  of  chair.) 

(Kitty  enters  from  bedroom,  her  head  a  mass 

of  neat,  hard  nubbins  of  white  rags,  curls  in  th« 

bud.   She  is  rubbing  her  eyes  with  one  hand,  buU 

toning  her  dress  in  the  back  with  the  other.  She 

hurries  to  the  stove  and  stands  before  it  shivering 

and  holding  out  her  hands  to  the  heat.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Examines  Kitty's  hair  and  relies 

one  rag  carefully.)    Peter,  can't  you  spread  up  the 

beds  and  put  out  the  children's  clean  things  so't 

I  can  git  ter  fittin'  Larry's  new  suit?  I  wa'n't  a  mite 

satisfied  with  his  clo'es  an'  I  got  up  in  the  night  an' 

planned  (stands  with  finger  on  her  lip  considering)  a 

way  ter  make  him  a  dress  out  o'  my  plaid  shawl  — 

KITTY.   O  Ma,  not  yer  best  shawl  that  Granpa 

McGrill  give  you? 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  The  best  that  my  folks  ever  had 
—  an'  it  was  consid'able  —  ain't  none  too  grand  for 
a  dinner-party  at  the  Birds'.  I  thought  to  make  it 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    48 

kind  o'  Scotch  style  wi'  the  fringe  to  the  bottom. 
Fringe  is  always  stylish.  (Goes  to  bureau  drawer,  takes 
out  the  pieces  of  shawl,  examines  them,  holding  them 
up  measuringly.) 

KITTY.  What '11  you  wear  yourself,  when  you  go 
callin'  on  the  neighbors,  Ma? 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (evasively).    Something  else  —  of 
course. 

(Peoria  enters  door,  left,  front.    Her  hair  re- 
sembles that  of  Barnum's  Circassian  girl.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES.  Peory!     (Peoria  jumps.)    Quick 
as  you  eat  your  breakfast  I  wisht  you'd  get  the 
comb  and  see  if  you  can't  get  the  kinks  out  o'  this 
fringe.  It  ain't  been  combed  sence  I  wore  it  to  your 
grandpa's  funeral  an'  it 's  in  an  awful  snarl. 

(Peoria  nods  and  turns  to  cross  to  table.) 
(Clement  and  Cornelius  dash  from  behind  the 
screen  for  the  table.   Peoria  enters  the  contest  and 
there  is  a  good-humored  scramble  over  the  chairs. 
Kitty  is  already  seated.    Peoria  is  left  without  a 
seat,  so  she  pulls  the  chair  from  under  the  ironing- 
board  and  it  falls  to  the  floor  with  a  crash.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES  (who  has  been  holding  up  the  shawl 
and  estimating  its  possibilities,  turns  suddenly).   Who 
done  that? 

(Peoria  is  sitting  in  chair,  Peter  is  picking  up 
the  board.    Mrs.  Ruggles  puts  the  shawl  on  the 
dresser  and  walks  majestically  toward  the  table.) 
CORNELIUS    (without    interrupting    his    eating). 
Peory. 

(Peoria  looks  sulky.) 


44  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  2 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (looks  at  Peoria  sternly).  You  help 
your  brother  pick  up  them  clo'es  or  you  know 
what's  likely  to  happen. 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  takes  the  bundle  of  stockings  and 
crosses  down  stage  to  left,  sits  running  her  hand 
into  the  stockings,  matching  them  up.) 

(Sarah  Maud  enters,  dragging  a  yawning  Larry 
by  the  hand,  crosses  to  table,  places  him  in  Peoria' s 
chair,  "bibs"  him,  gives  him  a  bowl  of  milk  and 
spreads  syrup  on  his  bread.  He  is  much  cheered 
by  the  sight  of  food.) 

(Peoria  turns,  sees  Larry  in  her  place  —  opens 
her  mouth  wide  to  protest,  reconsiders,  takes  an- 
other bowl  and  a  piece  of  bread,  scowling  blackly, 
and  pouting  —  and  retires  to  the  wood  box  where 
she  makes  a  hurried  breakfast.) 

(Peter  goes  behind  the  screen  to  make  the  bed.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES  (puzzling  over  the  stockings).  Clem, 
you  help  Kitty  with  the  dishes  so's  I  can  get  right 
at  Larry's  suit.  (Kitty  is  already  at  the  sink,  taking  out 
the  pan.  Clement  rises  protestingly.)  Now,  Clement, 
don't  begin  that  way,  or  you'll  have  trouble  'fore 
the  day 's  over.  (Clement  carries  dishes  to  the  sink.) 

(Sarah  Maud  sits  down  for  breakfast.    Her 
mother  is  busy,  does  not  notice  this.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES.  Gracious,  Sarah  Maud,  ain't  you 
and  Larry  had  enough  breakfast  yet?  I  wish  you'd 
hurry,  'cause  I  want  you  to  iron  Cornelius's  shirt 
and  then  sew  up  Larry's  suit,  's  quick  as  I  git  it 
fitted. 
SABAH  MAUD  (rising  obediently).  Yes,  Ma.   (Goes 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   4£ 

to  the  ironing-board,  puts  it  in  place  and  begins  iron' 
ing.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles,  who  has  matched  up  the  stock' 
ings  and  rolled  each  pair,  picks  up  each  little  ball 
and  nodding  toward  the  child  to  whom  it  belongs, 
puts  that  ball  on  the  other  side  of  her  chair.   She 
does  this  with  six  pairs,  stops  at  the  last  with  a 
single  stocking,  shaking  her  head  woefully.   Goes 
through  the  performance  again.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES  (naming  each  roll).  There's  Sarah 
Maud's,  Peter's,  Kitty's,  Cornelius's,  Clem's,  Larry's 
—  There  simply  ain't  no  decent  pair  o'  whole  stock- 
in's  for  Peory .  ( The  children  all  stare  at  her  in  dismay.) 
It 's  so.  I  counted  'em  over  in  my  mind  after  I  went 
to  bed  last  night  and  even  then  I  could  n't  make 
more'n  thirteen  and  there  ain't  but  six  pairs  any- 
how you  fix  'em.  I  ain't  goin'  ter  have  one  o'  my  chil- 
dern  wear  odd  stockin's  to  a  dinner  company,  fetched 
up  as  I  was!  Not  even  if  somebody  has  to  stay  ter 
home!   (Consternation.  Mrs.  Ruggles  has  an  inspira- 
tion.) Con,  you  run  out  and  ask  Mis'  Cullen  ter  lend 
me  a  pair  o'  stockin's  for  Peory,  an'  tell  her,  if  she 
will,  Peory  '11  give  Jim  half  her  candy  when  she  gets 
home.  Won't  yer,  Peory? 

PEORIA  (unable  to  control  her  grief,  now  that  the 
threatening  great  horror  becomes  a  definite  small  one, 
wails  piercingly).  I  don't  want  to  give  away  my 
candy! 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  rises  slowly,  stalks  across  to  the 
now  thoroughly  frightened  Peoria,  —  the  other 
children  watching  open-mouthed,  —  takes  Peoria 


46   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

by  the  shoulder.    She  rises  mechanically  in  re- 
sponse as  one  who  knows  the  way  to  punishment. 
Mrs.  Ruggles  takes  away  her  hand.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES.  No.  I  vow  I  won't  lick  ye,  Christ- 
mas Day;  not  if  yer  drive  me  crazy!  But  speak  up 
smart  now,  an'  say  which  you'd  rather  do:  give  Jim 
Cullen  hah*  yer  candy  or  (  a  long  pause,  each  of  the 
children  holding  a  sympathetic  breath)  go  to  the  party 
—  barelegged? 

PEORIA  (faintly").  Jim  can  have  part  of  my  candy. 
MRS.  RUGGLES  (patting  her  on  the  shoulder) .  That 's 
a  lady.  Run  along,  Con,  and  speak  to  Mis'  Cullen. 
Be  sure  you  make  her  understand  that  the  stockin's 
will  be  worn  to  the  dinner-party  at  the  big  house. 
If  you  ain't  sure  she  hears  the  first  time  (Con  is  at 
the  door  so  that  his  mother  raises  her  voice  and  speaks 
excitedly),  say  it  twice  and  say  it  loud. — The 
news  '11  be  up  and  'down  the  alley  by  night  and  I  'm 
willin'  it  should!  (Mrs.  Ruggles  crosses  to  left  and 
takes  up  shawl.) 

(Peter  who  has  been  standing  by  the  screen 
during  this  harrowing  scene  with  a  small  bundle 
of  red  flannel  in  his  hand,  comes  forward  now  and 
whispers  to  Mrs.  Ruggles.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  What  do  you  say?  (Takes  the 
flannel  from  him  and  holds  it  up  in  front  of  her.  It  is 
a  very  ragged  suit  of  underwear.  Mrs.  Ruggles's  voice 
is  full  of  terrible  thrills.)  Clement!  (Clement  turns 
slowly  on  the  soap  box  and  stares  at  his  mother.)  Is 
this  your  best  suit  of  underflannins? 
CLEMENT.  (Steps  down  from  the  box  carefully  and 


ACT  «]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   47 

comes  slowly  across  the  stage  to  his  mother;  examines 
the  garment  carefully;  looks  up  at  her,  smiling  pro- 
pitiatingly.)  No  'm;  it's  my  other  one. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Well,  you  can't  wear  this  to  no 
dinner-party.  Where's  your  best  one?  (Pause.) 
Bring  it  here  to  once,  so's  I  —  (Her  glance  is  held  by 
Clement's  somewhat  troubled  look.) 

CLEMENT.  It's  —  here.  I've  got  it  on  me. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  You've  got  it  on  you!  (Clement 
nods.  Mrs.  Ruggles  considers.)  Take  it  off  you,  then, 
quicker 'n  a  wink!  (Clement  still  hesitates.)  Quick! 
hop  into  bed  while  I  wash  it  out! 

PETER.  (Stands  by  the  screen.)  The  bed 'sail  made 
up!  — 

CLEMENT.  Oh,  Ma,  I  don't  want  to  go  to  bed. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Don't  s'pose  you  do!  I  know  it's 
bothersome,  but  yer  can't  go  into  s'ciety  'thout  takin* 
some  trouble!  Be  lively  so  the  flannins  '11  have  time 
to  dry.  'Cause  if  they  ain't  —  you  stay  to  home,  — 
that's  flat! 

(Clement  flies  behind  the  screen,  there's  a  scram- 
ble and  the  underwear  is  tossed  over  into  the  room.) 
(Kitty  turns  from  the  dishpan,  waving  dish' 
cloth,  indignantly.) 

KITTY.  I'd  like  to  know  who's  goin*  to  wipe  for 
me.  I  only  wish  I  could  get  sent  to  bed! 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (has  dragged  a  tub  from  the  wood- 
shed and  has  it  on  a  chair,  and  is  now  at  the  stove  get- 
ting the  teakettle).  Probably  you  will,  before  we  git 
through !  —  Peory,  you  git  up  there  and  wipe  for 
Kitty.  Sarah  Maud,  I  guess  you've  got  to  leave  them 


48   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

things  a  minute  and  wash  out  these  while  I  stari 
Larry's  dress. 

(Takes  Larry  by  the  hand  and  leads  him  to  the 
front  of  stage.  Peoria  moves  slowly  to  the  sink, 
picks  up  the  fallen  towel  and  wipes  the  dishes, 
Kitty  has  finished  washing.) 

(Sarah  Maud  puts  her  iron  back  on  the  stove 
and  washes  the  under  flannels,  business  of  empty- 
ing tub,  etc.) 

(Kitty  hangs  up  the  pan,  then  moves  slowly 
across  to  the  mirror.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles,  who  is  holding  the  shawl  up  to 
Larry,  sees  her.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Kitty,  you  git  busy  finishin'  the 
ironin'.  There's  your  apron,  and  Peory's,  and  Con's 
shirt.  And  if  you  have  time,  a  collar  for  Sarah 
Maud. 

(Sarah  Maud  is  carefully  scrubbing  the  red 
flannel  shirt.) 

(Clement  is  behind  the  screen,  popping  up  now 
and  then  and  peeping  over.) 

(Kitty  is  ironing.) 

(Peoria  is  unskillfuUly  wiping  the  bowls  and 
watching  her  mother.) 

(Larry  is  on  the  verge  of  tears  as  Mrs.  Ruggles 
lifts  one  little  pudgy  arm,  then  the  other,  holds  the 
shawl  up  to  his  neck  for  length  and  then  considers.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  is  most  serious,  frowns  as  one 
would  over  a  most  difficult  task  and  spreads  the 
pieces  of  the  shawl  on  the  floor  in  estimating  dis- 
play.) 


ACT  2J    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   49 

(Sarah  Maud  has  finished  her  washing  and 
hung  the  union  suit  upon  the  line.  As  she  finishes, 
Kitty  gives  her  the  iron  and  starts  again  for  the 
mirror.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (severely).  Kitty,  you  stay  where 
you  be.  Sarah  Maud  is  goin'  to  help  me. 

(Kitty  goes  back  reluctantly  to  the  ironing  and 
Sarah  Maud  comes  to  her  mother,  who  is  kneeling 
on  the  floor,  giving  the  last  puttings  and  shapings 
to  the  shawl.) 

(Larry   reaches   up   mechanically  for    Sarah 
Maud's  kindly  hand  and  she  responds  with  hers.) 
(Mrs.  Ruggles  rises,  slowly,  painfully,  as  with 
stiff  joints,  holds  out  cloth  to  Sarah  Maud.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES.    There,  Sarah  Maud,  you  sew 
up  them  seams  —  and  be  sure  you  sew  strong,  'cause 
we  don't  want  it  to  come  apart  to-night  —  an*  now 
I'll  git  ready  fer  the  washin'. 

CLEMENT  (over  the  top  of  the  screen).  Washin',  Ma? 
Ain't  it  Wednesday? 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Yes,  sir,  it  is  Wednesday,  and  it  is 
washin'I  At  twelve  o'clock  me  an'  Sarah  Maud 
(Peter  enters  from  the  door,  right,  front,  Cornelius  from 
the  door,  rear,  in  time  to  hear  the  dire  words  and  with 
Kitty  and  Peoria,  they  glance  anxiously  toward  the 
clock  which  is  exactly  15  minutes  to  12)  —  at  exactly 
12  o'clock  me  an'  Sarah  Maud's  goin'  ter  give  yei 
sech  a  washin'  an'  combin'  an'  dressin'  as  yer  never 
had  before  an'  never  will  ag'in,  likely  (family  depres- 
sion), an'  then  I'm  goin'  to  set  yer  down  an'  give  yei 
two  solid  hours'  trainm'  in  manners  (all  the  little 


60   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT« 

Ruggleses  bristle  with  additional  discomfort).    An* 
't  won't  be  no  foolin'  neither. 

PETER  (gruffly  and  rebelliously,  after  a  long  horror- 
stricken  silence  in  which  all  the  Ruggleses  have  looked 
at  each  other  sympathetically).  All  we've  got  ter  do  's 
go  eat! 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  looks  her  scorn  at  Peter.) 
(Sarah  Maud  is  stitching  carefully,  but  awk- 
wardly, and  Larry  stands  by  her  side  with  occa- 
sional pats  on  her  arm.    The  shoulder  seams  are 
loosely  put  together  and  soon  done.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES.   All  yer  got  ter  do's  eat?   Well, 
that's  enough.   There's  more'n  one  way  of  eatin', 
let  me  tell  yer,  an'  p'r'aps  it's  merciful  yer  don't 
know  what  a  heap  you've  got  ter  learn  about  it, 
Peter  Ruggles.    (Peter  moves  uneasily  away  from  his 
mother,  up  stage.)   Land  sakes!  I  wish  you  childern 
could  see  the  way  I  was  fetched  up !  I  et  my  vittles 
in  a  dmin'-room  every  day  of  the  week  before  I  mar- 
ried your  father;  but  yer  can't  keep  up  that  style 
with  seven  young  ones  an'  him  allers  off  ter  sea. 
(Sighs.) 

(The  Ruggleses'  eyes  turn  involuntarily  to  the 
picture  of  the  sailor-man.  There  are  five  little 
reflective  sighs  —  Sarah  Maud  is  too  busy  and 
Larry  too  young  to  join.) 

CORNELIUS  (comes  in  the  door).  Mis'  Cullen  wants 
to  know,  Ma,  if  these '11  do.  (Unrolls  a  rather  large 
pair  of  vivid-hued  striped  stockings.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (clasps  her  hands  and  says) .  They  '11 
be  the  makin'  of  you!  —  Ain't  they  stylish,  Peory? 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   51 

PEOBIA  (slowly,uncertainly, staring  at  the  stockings). 
Y-e-s,  Ma. 

CORNELIUS  (hilariously).  Nobody '11  forget  she's 
got  'em  on! 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (sharply).  Give  'em  to  her,  Con. 
(Cornelius  hands  them  over  to  Peoriay  who  takes 
them  with  some  natural  aversion.) 

CORNELIUS  (breathless).  And,  Ma,  what  do  you 
think  Mis'  Cullen  says  is  all  up  an*  down  the  alley? 
—  She  says  Mr.  Bird  has  bought  our  house! 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (quickly).  What  house? 

CORNELIUS.   This  house. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Mr.  Bird  bought  our  house? 

CORNELIUS.  That's  what  Mis'  Cullen  says.  She 
s'poses  now  we'll  be  goin'  to  hev  steam  heat  an* 
'lectrics  put  in. 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (suspiciously).  That's  nothin* 
but  her  spite.  Mis'  Cullen  allers  was  envious. 

PETER.  P'r'aps  Mr.  Bird  told  Mis'  Cullen  he  was 
goin'  to  put  in  'lectrics. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  T  ain't  likely  he'd  make  any 
confidences  to  her.  Land  sakes,  childern,  what  do 
you  s'pose  it  means? 

SARAH  MAUD  (anxiously).  Ma,  will  Mr.  Bird 
come  every  week  to  collect  the  rent,  —  'cause  I  'm 
awful  scared  of  him. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  I  don't  know,  Sarah  Maud;  I'm 
all  kind  o'  flustered,  but  I  can't  help  feelin'  it  means 
somethin'  good,  comin'  Christmas  Day,  this  way. 
Don't  let's  think  about  it.  I  don't  dast,  hardly, 
an'  we  ain't  got  time.  Give  me  Larry's  dress,  and 


52   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

hand  me  my  scissors  —  they  're  hanging  underneath 
your  Pa's  "enlargement."  (Sarah  Maud  rises  slowly 
and  holds  up  completed  dress.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Takes  dress  with  abstracted  smile. 
Surveys  children.)  Now,  Sarah  Maud,  we  can  begin. 
I've  got  a  boiler  'n'  a  kittle  'n'  a  pot  o'  hot  water 
all  ready.  Peter,  you  take  a  big  pitcher  o'  water  out 
o'  the  kittle,  and  go  into  the  back  bedroom.  Corne- 
lius, you  go  with  Peter,  'n'  he'll  help  you.  (Peter  gets 
water;  exits.  Mrs.  Ruggles  considers  disposal  of  other 
children.  Cornelius  gets  water;  is  leaving;  Mrs.  Ruggles 
halts  him.)  Take  the  kittle  with  you.  (Cornelius  re- 
turns; takes  the  kettle  off,  with  great  effort.)  Peory,  you 
and  Kitty  take  some  water  and  go  upstairs  and  — 

PEORIA  (shivering).  Oh,  Ma,  it's  cold  up  there. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Y-e-s,  I  s'pose  't  is :  but  you  ain't 
used  to  no  furnace-heated  bathrooms,  an'  you've 
go  to  go  to  the  party  clean,  anyway. 
(Peoria  exits.) 
(Clement  shouts  oter  screen?) 

CLEMENT.  Yi,  Peory,  you  forgot  yer  stockin's! 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (gathering  them  all  up).  So  you 
did.  (Drapes  stockings  over  Peoria's  arm.)  Here, 
Kitty,  give  these  to  the  boys.  (Hands  her  stockings; 
then  cheerfully  and  energetically.)  Now,  Sarah  Maud, 
you  take  Clem  an'  Larry,  one  to  a  time;  scrub  'em, 
an'  rinse  'em,  —  or  't  any  rate  git's  fur's  yer  can 
with  'em,  —  and  then  I  '11  finish  'em  off  while  yer  do 
yerself .  Meantime,  I  '11  git  out  the  jewelry  an'  trim- 
min's  and  see  how  far  they  '11  go. 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  goes  to  the  bureau;  opens  tfa 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   53 

drawers;  takes  out  small  boxes  from  which  she 
extracts  various  treasures.) 

(Sarah  Maud  drags  the  washtub  behind  the 
stove;  puts  a  generous  amount  of  boiling  water  into 
it;  adds  cold,  then  drags  slow-footed  Larry  behind 
the  stove*  out  of  sight  and  the  audience  sees  several 
small  garments  lifted  and  waved  in  the  air.) 
CLEMENT  (over  the  screen).  Sarah  Maud  ain't  took 
me,  Ma. 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  turns;  but  before  she  can  reas- 
sure him  there  is  a  splash  as  of  some  one  slipping 
into  water,  and  an  agonized  scream  from  Larry.) 
LARRY  (after  a  slight  pause,  speaks  as  though  trying 
to  get  his  breath.)  HOT! 

(As  Mrs.  Ruggles  is  about  to  rush  to  the  rescue^ 
Cornelius  sticks  a  wet  head  in  at  the  door.) 
CORNELIUS.  Ma!  Peter  won't  give  me  the  soap. 
MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Goes  to  the  door  and  calls.)  Peter, 
you  let  Cornelius  have  that  soap,  part  o'  the  time. 

PETER  (voice  off  stage).  I  do !  but  he  keeps  it  hi  the 
water  and  w-a-s-t-e-s  it,  paddlin'  with  it. 
(Cornelius  exits.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  returns  to  her  trinkets.) 
(While  Larry  is  still  in  the  tub,  Jack  and  El- 
frida  pass  the  window,  left,  and  knock  at  the  door.) 
(Mrs.  Ruggles  straightens  slowly  and  listens; 
the  knock  is  repeated.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Some  one's  at  the  door!  Quick, 
Sarah  Maud,  take  Larry  into  the  o^her  room. 

SARAH  MAUD  (in  an  agonized  whisper).   I  can't: 
he's  in  the  tub. 


54   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  « 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  hurries  across  stage,  looks  at 
screen  —  Clement's  head  disappears  —  pushes  table 
in  front  of  stove  as  she  goes,  and  sets  it  over  the 
tub  and  Larry.) 

MBS.  RUGGLES.  You  keep  Larry  hid,  and  covered 
over,  Sarah  Maud;  and  I'll  stand  t'other  side  o'  the 
room,  so  whoever  't  is  won't  look  your  way.  I  hope 
to  the  land  they  won't  stop  long. 

CLEMENT.  (Creeps  to  window;  peeps  out;  whispers.) 
It's  the  Birds'  nurse-lady  'thout  her  cap,  and  the 
uncle.  —  S'pose  they've  come  for  the  rent? 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  stiffens  with  dismay,  and  for 
one  cowardly  moment  contemplates  inhospitality. 
Then  she  slowly  pulls  down  her  sleeves  and,  march' 
ing  like  a  hero,  opens  the  door.) 
MBS.   RUGGLES.     Oh,    Miss  Elfrida,  —  ah  —  ah 
—  A  Merry  Christmas  to  you!    Will  you  step  in 
a  minute? 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  does  not  move  away  from  the 
door  to  admit  her  until  Elfrida  advances.) 

(Elfrida  has  on  the  becoming  fur  turban,  a 
little  bouquet  of  holly  in  her  jacket  and  on  her  muff, 
and  looks  rosy  and  pretty.) 

ELFRIDA  (entering).  Thank  you,  just  a  moment. 
It's  a  little  early  for  calling.  (Jack  follows.)  This  is 
Mr.  Bird,  Mrs.  Ruggles;  Carol's  uncle.  And  we 
came  to  say  — 

MBS.  RUGGLES  (with  short  supply  of  breath).  How 
do  you  do,  Mr.  Bird?  I  hope  your  health  is  good, 
Mr.  Bird. 
JACK   (lightly,  but  with  glance  of  seriousness). 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   55 

Much    better    than    when    I    arrived,  —  thank  — 
(smiles  at  Elfrida)  you. 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  tries  to  make  conversation,  but 

is  desperately  conscious  of  various  things  that 

must  be  concealed.    She  either  plucks  an  offending 

garment  from  its  place  —  or  some  other  business  — 

between  all  the  remarks.    She  might  carelessly 

turn  up  the  legs  of  Clement's  wet  union  suit,  over 

the  line,  so  that  they  are  not  quite  so  obvious. 

She  then  looks  at  the  stove,  and  carefully  places 

two  chairs  with  their  backs  to  it.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  I  am  very  glad,  I'm  sure.  Won't 

you  have  a  shirt  —  I  mean  a  seat,  Mr.  Bird,  —  Miss 

Elfrida  —  er  —  (Spies  Larry's  cast-off  shirt  and 

gathers  it.) 

ELFRIDA.    (Sits.)   Thank  you.    Miss  Carol  sent 
us  over  to  ask  you  — 

(Jack  stands  by  her  chair.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (forgetting  her  embarrassment  in 
her  worry.  Center  of  stage).  The  dinner  ain't  put  off, 
is  it?  (Quickly.)  Though  (Clement's  head  appears 
over  the  screen.  Sarah  Maud  looks  over  the  table)  of 
course  it's  all  right  if  it  is.  Ain't  Miss  Carol  so  well? 
JACK.  Oh,  yes;  she's  better,  and  planning  great 
things  for  this  evening.  No,  indeed;  the  Christmas 
dinner  is  n't  postponed,  you  may  be  sure. 

(Clement  retires  behind  the  screen,  and  Sarah 
Maud  returns  to  her  lowly  bathroom.) 

(Jack  roams  about  the  room,  stopping  espe- 
cially to  observe  Mr.  Ruggles's  picturet  which 
would  attract  notice  anywhere.) 


56   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  watches  him  closely  while  she 
talks,  and  endeavors  always  to  keep  between  him 
and  the  stove.} 

ELFRIDA.  We've  come  to  make  sure  that  all  the 
children  will  be  able  to  come.  I  suppose  it 's  rather 
hard  to  have  seven  ready  at  the  same  time. 

MBS.  RUGGLES  (meaningly  as  Clement's  head 
appears  above  the  screen).  All  of  the  childern  are 
comin'  —  (sees  Clement's  head)  I  HOPE!! 

(Clement  sees  the  point  and  ducks  quickly.) 

JACK.  (At  the  mirror,  into  which  he  is  smiling.)  I 
hope  you  don't  mind  my  admiring  your  wonderful 
shells,  Mrs.  Ruggles.  You  see,  I'm  a  bit  of  a  sailor. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Mr.  Ruggles  (draws  herself  up 
proudly)  is  a  sailor,  too! 

JACK  (pointing  to  the  picture).  And  this  —  is  Mr. 
Ruggles? 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (joining  him).  Yes.  He  had  that 
taken  last  time  he  was  to  home;  three  years  ago,  now. 
The  photograph  was  real  good,  but  I  ain't  never 
been  satisfied  with  the  enlargement.  A  lady  who 
enlarges  for  a  livin'  come  to  the  door  and  offered 
to  do  it  for  seventy-five  cents.  I  don't  hardly  know 
what  she  done  to  Ruggles,  but  he  don't  look  the  same 
sence  he  was  enlarged. 

ELFRIDA  (rising  and  turning  to  Jack).  But  we're 
not  delivering  our  message.  (To  Mrs.  Ruggles.)  Mrs. 
Ruggles,  Mrs.  Bird  -thought  possibly  you'd  enjoy 
seeing  the  children  at  the  games  after  the  dinner, 
and  she  hopes  you  '11  come  in  for  a  few  minutes  about 
eight  o'clock. 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   57 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Come  in?  To  the  house?  Me? 
To  the  party? 

JACK.  We  'd  like  it  awfully  if  you  would.  Do  say 
"yes." 

ELFRIDA  (as  Mrs.  Ruggles  still  hesitates).  I  hope 
you  have  n't  another  engagement. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Oh  —  er  —  no.  P Yaps  I  can 
manage.  I  can't  just  think  it  out  —  so  quick. 

JACK  (holding  out  his  hand}.  Don't  think  it  out, 
Mrs.  Ruggles;  just  come. 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (wiping  her  hand  and  putting  it  into 
his,  slowly,  and  then  looking  up  at  him,  pleased  at  his 
courtesy}.   Oh,  yes,  I'll  come,  —  if  you  really  mean 
the  family  'd  like  to  have  me.  I  'm  real  sociable  my- 
self, an'  I  ain't  never  met  Mr.  Bird. 
(Hold  this  scene  a  second.) 
(Outside  the  door  a  rattle,  and  Kitty's  voice.) 
KITTY  (outside).  Ma '11  do  it,  then,  if  you  won't. 

(Enter  Kitty,  hair  half  out  of  its  curl-papers. 
She  notes  the  visitors;  gasps;  then  retreats,  hur- 
riedly.) 

(Elfrida  starts  toward  the  door.    Jack  follows.) 
(Mrs.  Ruggles  circles  them  and  stands  in  front 
of  the  table,  outstretching  her  skirt  with  careful 
carelessness  to  shield  the  bather.) 
ELFRIDA  (holding  out  her  hand).    Again,  Merry 
Christmas,  Mrs.  Ruggles. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Thank  you  kindly,  ma'am.  The 
same  to  you.  And  to  you,  sir;  and  (jumping  to  an 
embarrassing  conclusion),  may  you  spend  many  of 
them  together,  happy  and  prosperous. 


58   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  * 

(Elfrida  is  outside,  but  hears.) 

(Jack  is  puzzled;  then  gets  her  meaning.') 

JACK.  Er  —  a  —  thank  you !  (Pause.  Grows  seri- 
ous.) And  I  hope  you  '11  let  me  thank  you,  too,  many 
times,  for  the  pleasure  your  children  bring  to  Carol. 
(Exits  quickly.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  closes  door  slowly  and  leans 
against  it.) 

MBS.  RUGGLES.  Pleasure!  Us!  Well,  what  do  you 
think  of  that! 

LARKY  (plaintively,  from  the  tub).  I'm  most 
soaked  up! 

CLEMENT  (appearing  around  the  screen  in  his  night 
attire).  When's  my  wash  goin*  to  begin?  And  is  my 
shirt  goin'  to  stay  on  the  line  forever?  (Mutinously.) 
I'll  dress  without  it,  first  thing  you  know! 

KITTY.  (Enters  door,  right  front.)  Ma,  I  can't  get 
my  curls  out  o'  the  rags. 

PETER.  (Follows  Kitty.)  I  ain't  got  no  necktie. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Puts  her  hands  to  her  ears.)  One 
to  a  time  —  one  to  a  time!  Sarah  Maud,  you  help 
Peter  empt*  the  water  out,  an'  Clem  can  begin. 
Land  sakes,  it's  worse 'n  a  Monday!  I'm  glad  we 
don't  have  to  boil  childern  an'  dip  'em  in  bluein'- 
water  same  as  you  do  clothes,  or  I  should  give  up. 
As  't  is,  I  don't  want  to  see  a  tub  for  a  month. 

PETER.  You  bet  7  don't,  neither! 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Bring  Larry  here,  Sarah  Maud, 
and  finish  him  up.  Kitty,  come  to  me  (moves  down 
stage  to  dresser;  sits,  left)  an'  I'll  fix  your  curls  fef 
you.  Where 'sPeory? 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   59 

(Sarah   Maud   and   Peter   are   emptying  the 
tub.) 

KITTY  (kneeling  on  floor  in  front  of  her  mother'). 
She's  comin'.    She  can't  get  her  stockin's  so's  the 
stripes  ain't  twisted;  an'  they're  so  big  for  her  they 
keep  slippin'  down,  showin'  her  knees.    She  thinks 
they're  full  grown-up  size  an'  they  will  bag! 
(Mrs.  Ruggles  arranges  Kitty's  ringlets.) 
(Sarah  Maud  brings  Larry,  clad  in  his  under 
garments  up  to  his  dress,  down  stage;  places  him 
on  chair  and  scrubs  his  hands,  scours  his  face, 
etc.,  etc.,  etc.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  goes  to  bureau;  takes  out  a  green 
skirt  with  double  row  of  brass  buttons.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES.  See  here,  Sarah  Maud! 

(Sarah  Maud  turns  slowly  from  Larry  and 
looks  at  her  mother,  but  without  much  interest.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  points  to  buttons.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES  (proudly.)  They're  off  yer  uncle's 
policeman's  uniform. 

(The  Ruggleses  are  dumb  and  wide-eyed  with 
amazement  at  the  sacrifice.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (quickly.)    'Course  you  must  be 
very  careful  not  to  lose  one.    (Sarah  Maud's  faint 
smile  fades.)    I  sewed  'em  on  last  night.    Ain't  it 
stylish!    (Holds  out  the  skirt  admiringly.)    Take  it, 
Sarah  Maud,  and  go  an'  git  yerself  together. 
SARAH  MAUD.  Larry  — 
MRS.  RUGGLES.  I'll  finish  Larry. 
LARRY  (piteously;  somewhat  red  and  raw).   I  AM 
finished  —  Honest  I  am!!! 


60   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

(Kitty  stands  in  front  of  mirror,  putting  on 
last  touches.) 

(Sarah  Maud  exits,  door,  left,  front.) 

(Peter  sits  at  table,  fingering  the  neckties  and 
cottars.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  takes  Larry  and  puts  on  the 
shawl  dress.    She  looks  at  it  admiringly;  then 
takes  out  a  red  sash  and  ties  it  around  his  waist. 
The  bottom  of  the  fringe  rises  as  the  sash  is  tight- 
ened, and  when  Mrs.  Ruggles  sits  back  on  her 
knees  to  inspect,  her  disappointment  is  keen.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES.    Larry  Ruggles,  your  dress  is 
goin'  to  be  too  short! 

(Larry  smiles  at  her  as  at  praise;  then  slowly 
realizes  it  is  n't,  and  looks  solemnly  at  the  bot- 
tom of  his  dress.) 
LARRY.  Too  short! 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  I  could  just  cry !  Whatever  shall 
we  do? 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  rises  slowly;  gets  the  scissors; 
returns;  kneels  beside  Larry;  takes  off  the  sash, 
and,  with  the  garment  still  on  him,  cuts  the  shawl 
along  waist-line.  It  is  held  by  a  few  threads  only, 
but  fastened  beneath  by  a  strip  of  white  cloth 
which  shows  when  the  other  fastenings  are  cut, 
and  seems  to  be  Larry's  underwear.  She  takes  pins 
and  fastens  the  upper  part  of  the  shawl  down,  then 
the  lower  part  up,  and  then  re-ties  the  sash.) 

(During  the  above  performance  Cornelius  enters 
and  joins  Peter  at  the  table.  There  is  some  slight 
business  of  dispute  over  cottars.) 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   61 

CLEMENT.  Ma,  is  my  shirt  dry? 
MRS.  RUGGLES  (turning,  with  pins  in  her  mouth). 
Kitty,  see  if  your  brother's  shirt 's  dry. 

(Kitty  crosses  stage,  slowly,  glancing  admir- 
ingly at  herself  as  she  goes;  feels  of  the  shirt,  while 
Clement  and  her  mother  wait  anxiously;  then  an- 
nounces, slowly.} 

KITTY.   No;  't  ain't;  —  but  it's  stopped  steamin'. 
CLEMENT.  Oh,  Ma,  kin  I  wear  the  holey  one? 
'T  ain't  goin'  ter  show. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Considers;  tempted  to  yield  her 
family  pride.)  No,  Clement.  'T  would  n't  be  proper 
respect  to  the  Birds.  'T  ain't  no  use  to  look  good 
outside  if  you're  all  the  time  rememberin*  somethin* 
wrong  inside.  Put  on  yer  sleepers  again.  Peter, 
stuff  some  more  wood  in  the  stove.  —  An'  Kitty, 
move  the  shirt  along  the  line. 

(Clement  appear  sin  his  "sleepers  "and  watches 
anxiously.) 

(Peter  gets  the  wood  and  puts  it  into  the  stove 
with  a  great  clatter.) 

(Kitty  moves  the  shirt  slightly;  then  crosses  stage 
to  mirror  again.) 

(Clement  feels  of  his  shirt,  anxiously;  then 
moves  it  still  nearer,  and  sits,  right,  on  wood  box, 
watching  it  closely.) 

(As  Larry's  toilet  is  finished,  Mrs.  Ruggles 
carefully  places  him  on  a  chair,  right,  front,  so 
that  there  shall  be  no  tension  on  the  pins.) 

(Peoria  enters  at  door,  left;  crosses  to  center, 
stiffly.  All  turn  and  watch  her,  gazing  chiefly  at 


62   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

her  stockings.  Her  hair  has  resisted  all  advances 
in  the  shape  of  hair  oils  and  sticks  out  deter- 
minedly.) (Pause.') 

CORNELIUS.  (Convulsed)  Look  at  'er  hair!  Ain't 
it  jest  like  a  circus  picter? 

CLEMENT.  An'  her  laigs!  Ain't  yer  got  no  casters 
to  put  on  'em? 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Clement  McGrill  Ruggles! 
(Clement  rises  slowly.)  Ain't  yer  ashamed  of  yerself  ? 
—  callin'  names.  You  march  right  into  the  bedroom 
and  stay  there  until  — 

(Clement  crosses  stage,  slowly.) 
(Peoria  watches  him;  first  with  pleasure  in  his 
punishment,  then,  as  he  reaches  her,  she  throws 
her  arms  about  him.) 
PEORIA.  Don't  punish  him  to-day,  Ma. 
MRS.  RUGGLES.    You're  right,  Peory;  you're  a 
real  lady.  Come  back,  Clem. 

(Clement  returns  to  his  seat  on  the  wood  box.) 
(Peter  stands  by  the  sink.) 
(Cornelius  is  right  of  table.) 
(Larry  is  on  chair  to  right,  front.) 
(Peoria  and  Kitty  are  both  looking  into  the  mirror.) 
(Mrs.  Ruggles  stands  center  stage  back,  hands 
on  hips,  looking  from  one  to  the  other.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES.   Now,  if  Sarah  Maud  — 

(Door,  left,  front,  opens;  Sarah  Maud  enters.) 
LARRY  (jumping  from  chair  and  running  to  her). 
She's  here!  She's  here! 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (At  the  bureau.  Surveys  Sarah 
Maud,  who  is  embarrassed  by  her  elegance.)  Well, 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    63 

now,  ain't  that  skirt  han'some!    (Holds  up  a  collar, 
admiringly.)   Here's  a  collar  you  can  wear. 

(Sarah  Maud  comes  to  center.  Larry  follows.) 

SARAH  MAUD  (slowly).  Why,  Ma,  it's  your'n! 

MRS.  RUGGLBS.  Well,  what  o'  that? 

SARAH  MAUD.  What  are  you  goin*  to  wear  to  the 
party? 

(The  children  all  stare  with  the  same  idea.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (slowly).  I?  I  had  n't  thought  o* 
that.  But  you  must  he v  this.  (Adjusts  collar.)  My! 
How  it  does  dress  yer  up!  You  look  real  nice,  fer 
once.  Peter,  you  kin  wear  this  scarf  pin — your  pa  an* 
me  was  married  in  it.  Come  here  till  I  sew  it  in  yer 
tie ;  the  ketch  is  off.  (As  she  sews  it  in.)  Cornelius,  you 
hand  Clem  a  collar  and  necktie;  an'  you  take  the 
cuffs,  —  your  neck  is  shorter  an'  it  don't  need  hid- 
in'  so  much  as  his'n.  Now,  Peter,  you  an'  Clem  an' 
Cornelius  put  the  chairs  in  line,  an'  we're  ready  for 
our  trainin'. 

(Peter  and  Cornelius  tug  up  the  chairs.) 

CLEMENT.  (Rises  slowly;  walks  to  the  line  and  feels 
of  his  shirt.  Despairingly.)  T  ain't  dry. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Lor'  sakes,  ain't  it?  Put  in  an- 
other stick.  We  might  'a'  bought  another  shirt  with 
the  wood  we've  used  up.  You'd  better  come  to  the 
lesson,  'cause  I  can't  have  yer  goin'  there  with  no 
manners,  in  case  yer  shirt  should  dry  in  time. 

PETER.  (Five  chairs  in  line.)  There  ain't  enough 
chairs. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Why  should  there  be?  What  fam- 
ily ever  wants  to  set  down  all  to  once?  Fetch  up  the 


64   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

coal  hod  f er  Larry.  Put  a  newspaper  on  it,  Cornelius. 
Clem,  you  bring  the  box  an'  set  on  that.  Now,  all 
of  you  get  in  place,  accordin'  to  yer  age.  —  No, 
Sarah  Maud;  let  Larry  go  to  the  foot  by  himself, 
where  he  belongs. 

(Larry  walks  slowly  to  the  foot.) 

(As  they  are  all  seated,  Mrs.  Ruggles  stands  to 
right  of  them;  walks  before  them  as  an  inspecting 
officer,  to  left,  her  hands  on  her  hips,  and  her  eyes 
filled  with  pride.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Well,  —  if  I  do  say  so,  as  should 
n't,  —  I  never  seen  a  cleaner,  more  stylish  mess  of 
childern  in  my  life!  I  do  wish  Ruggles  could  see  you 
now.  .  i  .  Larry  Ruggles,  how  many  times  hev  I  got 
ter  tell  yer  not  ter  keep  pullin'  yer  sash?  .  .  .  Ain't 
I  warned  you,  if  it  comes  ontied,  yer  waist  an* 
skirt  '11  part  company  in  the  middle,  an'  then 
where '11  you  be? 

(Larry  loses  his  balance  and  falls  off  the  coal 
hod.  He  is  returned  to  erect  position.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  sighs.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  We're  losin'  time,  an'  we  ain't 
got  down  to  real. work  yet.  Now,  look  me  in  the  eye 
—  all  o'  yer.  (Pauses  while  she  surveys  the  palpitat- 
ing Ruggleses  in  turn.)  I've  often  told  yer  what  kind 
of  a  family  the  McGrills  is,  hev  n't  I?  (Six  Ruggleses 
nod  solemnly.  Clement  nudges  Larry,  who  slowly  sett 
his  head  in  motion.  It  goes  for  several  minutes,  likt. 
the  head  of  a  plaster  donkey.)  I  've  got  reason  to  b«» 
proud,  goodness  knows!  Yer  uncle  is  on  the  police 
force  o'  Pittsburg.  You  can  take  up  the  paper  'most 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   65 

any  day  an'  see  his  name  printed  right  out,  James 
McGrill,  an'  I  can't  hev  my  childern  fetched  up 
common,  like  some  folks'.  When  they  go  out,  they  've 
got  to  hev  clo'es,  —  an'  learn  to  act  decent!  Now, 
I  want  ter  see  how  yer  goin'  to  behave  when  yer  git 
there  ter-night. 

(Sarah  Maud  folds  her  hands  patiently  in  her 
lap  and  holds  her  head  down.) 

(Peter  puts  his  heels  together  stiffly  on  the  floor, 
folds  his  arms,  and  scowls.) 

(Peoria  twists  her  zebra  legs  and  vainly  endeavors 
to  cover  her  knees  with  her  unwilling  skirt.) 
(Kitty  tosses  her  ringleted  head.) 
(Cornelius  holds  to  the  bottom  of  his  chair  as 
though  toboganning.) 

CLEMENT  (moving  uneasily;  grumbles,  with  a  look 
at  the  wash  on  the  line).  What's  the  use  o'  havin* 
manners  if  yer  ain't  got  no  shirt? 

(Larry  threatens  to  tumble  qff  the  coal  hod 
again.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  A  dinner-party  ain't  so  awful 
easy  as  you  think.  Let 's  start  in  at  the  beginnin'  an* 
act  out  the  whole  business.  Pile  into  the  bedroom 
there  an'  show  me  how  yer  goin'  to  go  into  the  parlor. 
This'U  be  the  parlor,  an'  I'll  be  Mis'  Bird. 

(Sarah  Maud  leads  the  way,  and  all  except 
Clement  follow  her;  he  goes  to  the  stove  and  feels 
of  his  shirt.) 
CLEMENT.  'T  ain't  dry. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Put  in  more  wood,  and  hurry 
along.  (Clement  does  so.) 


66   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  feels  of  the  shirt  anxiously,  then 
draws  chair  to  front  of  stage,  left,  and  assumes 
great  dignity.) 

(From  the  time  of  the  exit  of  the  Ruggleses, 
there  has  been  the  sound  of  scuffling,  and  Kitty's 
piercing  soprano  is  heard.) 

KITTY  (from  outside).  Don't  jam  my  curls!  Keep 
away  from  me! 

(Every  child  giggles  but  Larry  and  Sarah 
Maud.) 

(Door  bursts  open,  and  Peoria  and  Clement  are 
catapulted  into  the  room.  Peter,  Cornelius,  and 
Kitty  scramble  for  place  beside  them.  Larry  at- 
tempts to  find  a  way  between  Peter  and  Cornelius, 
and  tumbles  in,  while  Sarah  Maud  stands  in 
the  doorway.) 

MBS.  RUGGLES.  (Rises,  slowly.)  There!  I  knew 
yer'd  do  it  in  some  sech  fool  way.  Now,  go  in  there 
an*  try  it  over  again,  every  last  one  o'  ye;  an'  if  Larry 
can't  come  ,in  on  two  legs  he  can  stay  ter  home :  d '  yer 
hear? 

(The  Ruggleses,  troubled  by  their  mother's 
manner,  file  back  into  the  room,  quietly,  and  re- 
appear; a  very  tame  entrance  this  time.  Sarah 
Maud  is  at  the  head  of  the  line,  Larry  at  the  foot. 
They  keep  step,  and  Sarah  Maud  leads  the  way, 
back  of  the  chairs  and  up  the  line  to  her  seat.) 

(As  Clement  passes  the  shirt,  he  feels  it;  then 
slowly  walks  to  place.) 

MBS.  RUGGLES  (while  they  are  marching  in).  No, 
no,  no!  That's  worse  yet!  Yer  look  for  all  the  world 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   67 

like  a  gang  o'  pris'ners.  There  ain't  no  style  ter  that. 
Spread  out  more,  can't  yer;  an'  act  kind  o'  careless- 
like  —  nobody's  goin'  ter  kill  yer!  That  ain't  what 
a  dinner-party  is.  You  need  n't  go  back  now;  but 
remember  what  I  say,  and  come  into  the  room  as 
though  you  was  in  the  habit  of  goin'  to  parties  ev'ry 
day  o'  your  life! 

(As  they  are  att  seated  but  Clement  he  goes  to 
the  line,  seizes  his  shirt,  and,  with  a  leap  of  joy 
across  the  stage,  shouts.) 

CLEMENT.  It's  dry!  It's  dry!  (Goes  behind  screen 
to  dress.) 

MRS.  RUQGLES.  It  ought  to  be  aired,  and  prob- 
ably you'll  get  yer  death:  but  maybe  it's  wuth  it. 
Don't  slight  yerself  now;  comb  yer  hair,  an'  listen  to 
what  I'm  a-tellin'  th'  others.  (They  are  att  seated  by 
this  time.)  Now,  yer  know  there  ain't  'nough  hats 
to  go  'round;  an'  if  there  was  I  don'  know  as  I'd  let 
yer  wear  'em,  fer  the  boys  'ud  never  think  to  take 
'em  off  when  they  got  inside  —  fer  they  never  do: 
but,  anyhow,  there  ain't  'nough  good  ones.  Now 
look  me  in  the  eye.  (They  all  attempt  to.)  You're 
only  jest  goin'  around  the  corner;  yer  need  n't  wear 
hats,  none  o'  yer;  an*  when  yer  get  int*  the  parlor, 
if  they  should  happen  to  say  anything  about  hats, 
Sarah  Maud  must  speak  up  (Sarah  Maud  shows  her 
dismay)  an'  say  it  was  sech  a  pleasant  evenin'  an* 
sech  a  short  walk  that  yer  lef'  yer  hats  ter  home. 
Now,  can  yer  remember? 

CHORUS  OF  RUGGLESES.  Yes,  marm. 

MBS.  RUGGLES.  What  hev  you  got  ter  do  with  it? 


68   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

Did  I  tell  you  to  say  it?  Warn't  I  talkin'  to  Sarah 
Maud?  (All  but  Kitty,  who  is  pert,  and  Larry,  who 
does  n't  understand,  hang  their  heads.  Larry  sees  them, 
then  slowly  and  solemnly  does  likewise.)  Now,  we 
don't  leave  nothin'  to  chance:  try  it,  Sarah  Maud. 
Speak  up. 

SARAH  MAUD  (in  a  low,  trembling  voice).  It  was 
pech  a  pleasant  evening  (Mrs.  Ruggles  nods  approval) 
and  sech  a  short  hat  — 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Short  hat  I  Oh!  Whatever  shall 
I  do  with  you?  Short  walk;  short  walk:  can't  yer 
remember  that? 

SARAH  MAUD  (uncertainly).  Sech  a  pleasant  walk 
an'  sech  a  short  evenin',  —  yes'm;  I  kin  remember. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Now,  Cornelius,  what  are  you 
goin'  ter  say  ter  make  yerself  good  comp'ny? 

CORNELIUS.  (Sits  up  in  alarm;  his  eyes  pop;  his 
breath  is  short.)  Do?  Me?  Dunno! 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Well,  ye  ain't  goin'  ter  set  there 
like  a  bump  on  a  log  —  air  ye?  —  'thout  say  in'  a  word 
ter  pay  fer  yer  vittles?  Ask  Mrs.  Bird  ...  if  she's 
got  good  help  in  the  kitchen,  ...  or  how  she's  feelin* 
this  evenin'  (with  very  much  manner)  or  if  Mr.  Bird  's 
hevin'  a  busy  season  ...  or  some  kind  o'  party-talk, 
like  that! 

(Cornelius  is  most  unhappy.    Peter  unsympa- 
thetically  joyous.) 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  has  a  sudden  thought.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  No;  come  to  think  about  it,  — 
't  would  n't  do  for  you  to  take  the  lead  that  way. 
Pater's  the  one:  he's  the  oldest.  Peter,  you  open 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    69 

up  with  Mr.  Bird,  and  remember  he's  consid'able 
stiff  and  stand-offish,  though  he  may  be  a  little 
easier  to-night  if  he 's  bought  the  house  for  us. 

(Peter's  joy  fades,  while  Cornelius's  anxiety 
decreases  suddenly.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Now  (sighs,  as  with  relief),  we'll 
make-b'lieve  that  we're  at  the  table:  that  won't  be 
so  hard  'cause  yer'll  hev  somethin'  ter  do  —  it's 
awful  bothersome  to  stau'  still  an'  act  stylish. 
(Slowly.)  If  they  hev  napkins,  Sarah  Maud  down  to 
Peory  may  put  'em  in  their  laps,  an'  the  rest  of  ye 
can  tuck  'em  in  their  necks.  Don't  eat  with  yer 
fingers.  (The  Ruggleses  grow  solemn.)  Don't  grab 
vittles  off  one  'nother's  plate:  don't  reach  out  fer 
nothin',  but  wait  till  yer  asked:  an'  if  yer  never  git 
asked,  don't  git  up  an'  grab  it  (they  all  wait  anxiously 
for  a  clue  to  behavior  in  this  awful  possibility);  jes* 
go  without!  Don't  spill  nothin'  on  the  tablecloth,  or 
like'?  not  Mis'  Bird  '11  send  yer  away  from  the  table: 
an'  I  hope  she  will,  too. 

(Cornelius  gives  a  long  sigh.) 
(Clement  bursts  forth  from  behind  the  screen.) 
CLEMENT  (leaping  with  joy).  Hurrah!  I'm  ready. 

(Twelve  care-filled  eyes  are  turned  toward  him. 
He  takes  his  place.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Now,  we'll  try  a  few  things  ter 
sre  how  they  '11  go.  Mr.  Clement,  do  you  eat  cram- 
Is  fy  sarse? 

CLEMENT.  Bet  yer  life! 

(There  is  a  moment  of  deathly  quiet.  All  the 
other  Ruggleses  look  at  him  in  amazement.  Clem- 
ent is  puzzled.) 


70   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Clement  McGrill  Ruggles,  do 
you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  'd  say  that  to  a  dinner- 
party? I'll  give  ye  one  more  chance.  Mr.  Clement, 
will  you  take  some  of  the  cramb'ry? 

CLEMENT  (slowly;  the  others  watch  him).  Yes,  marm; 
thank  ye  kindly,  —  'f  yer  happen  ter  have  any  handy. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Very  good:  but  they  won't  give 
yer  two  tries  to-night.  (The  following  taken  very 
quickly.)  Miss  Peory,  do  yer  speak  for  white  or  dark 
meat? 

PEORIA.  I  ain't  pertic'lar  as  to  color;  anything  that 
nobody  else  wants  will  suit  me. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  First-rate!  Nobody  could  speak 
more  genteel  than  that.  Miss  Kitty,  will  you  have 
hard  or  soft  sarse  with  your  pudden? 

KITTY  (with  composure).  Hard  or  soft?  Oh,  a  little 
of  both;  an*  I'm  much  obliged. 

(Business  of  pointing  finger  of  shame.    Peter 
grunts.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  You  stop  yer  gruntin',  Peter 
Ruggles.  That  warn't  greedy;  that  was  all  right.  I 
wish  I  could  git  it  into  yer  heads  that  it  ain't  so  much 
what  yer  say  as  the  way  yer  say  it.  ...  An'  don't 
keep  starin'  cross-eyed  at  your  necktie  pin,  or  I  vow 
I'll  take  it  away  an'  sew  it  on  Clem  or  Cornelius. 
Sarah  Maud '11  keep  her  eye  on  it,  an'  if  it  turns 
broken  side  out  she'll  tell  yer.  (Sarah  Maud  droops 
a  bit  more.)  Gracious!  I  should  n't  think  you'd  ever 
seen  nor  worn  no  jool'ry  in  yer  life!  —  Kitty,  lend 
your  hank'chief  to  Peory  if  she  needs  it,  an'  I  hope 
she'll  know  when  she  does  need  it,  though  I  don't 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   71 

expect  it!  —  Larry!  (Larry  looks  up,  frightened) 
you're  too  little  to  train;  so  you  jest  look  at  the  rest 
an'  do  's  they  do,  an*  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  ye 
an'  help  ye  to  act  decent.  —  Now  is  there  anything 
more  ye'd  like  to  practice? 

|> ;- PETER.  If  yer  tell  me  one  more  thing,  I  can't  set 
up  an'  eat.  I'm  so  cram  full  o'  manners  now  I'm 
ready  to  bust  'thout  no  dinner  at  all. 

CORNELIUS.  Me,  too. 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (who  has  been  walking  back  and 
forth,  stops  at  right).  Well,  I'm  sorry  fer  yer  both! 
If  the  'mount  o'  manners  yer've  got  on  hand  now 
troubles  yer,  you're  hurt  dretful  easy.  (Starts  toward 
the  door  as  though  to  open  it.  The  children  watch  eag- 
erly.) Now,  Sarah  Maud  (Sarah  Maud  winces) , 
when  the  time  comes,  you  must  git  up  an*  say,  "I 
guess  we'd  better  be  goin'."  Hev  yer  got  that  int* 
your  head? 

SARAH  MAUD.  Jest  when  do  I  get  up? 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (easily).  About  once  in  so  often. 

SARAH  MAUD  (rising  slowly).  About  once  in  so 
often? 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  If  they  say,  "Oh,  no;  set  a  while 
longer,"  yer  can  set:  but  if  they  don't  say  nothin', 
you  've  got  ter  get  up  an'  go. 

SARAH  MAUD  (mournfully).  Seem's  if  this  whole 
dinner-party  set  right  square  on  top  o'  me.  Mebbe 
I  could  manage  my  own  manners;  but  to  manage 
seven  mannerses  is  worse  'n  stayin'  to  home. 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (easily;  patting  Sarah  Maud  on  the 
shoulder).  Oh,  don't  fret,  I  guess  you'll  git  along. 


72   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

I  would  n't  mind  if  folks  would  only  say,  "Oh,  chil- 
dern  will  be  childern."  But  they  won't.  They  '11  say 
"Who  on  earth  fetched  them  childern  up?"  It'a 
a  quarter  past  five  now  an'  yer  (the  children  rise, 
slowly)  can  go. 

(As  they  are  on  the  way  to  the  door  and  Mrs. 
Ruggles  is  holding  it  open  for  them,  a  thought 
suddenly  strikes  her  and  she  comes  back,  nearer 
to  the  group.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Land  o'  goodness,  what  are  we 
thinkin'  about!  Here  you  are,  goin'  to  the  big  house 
without  a  sign  of  a  present.  'Course  they  're  so  rich 
they  don't  need  nothin' ;  but 't  ain't  much  of  a  Christ- 
mas if  yer  jest  go  to  the  party  for  what  yer  can  carry 
away.  Stand  still  a  second  and  let's  think  what  we 
can  give  to  Mis'  Bird. 

(The  Ruggles  family  reflects.  Sarah  Maud 
walks  to  bureau;  Kitty  to  closet;  Peter  consults 
his  pockets;  Cornelius  the  ceiling;  Clement  nudges 
Cornelius  to  bespeak  his  appreciation  of  the  joke, 
and  then  tiptoes  to  stove,  opens  oven  door  and  peers 
in  as  if  he  expected  to  find  a  diamond  necklace 
or  grand  piano  there.) 

KITTY.  (Inspired.)  Ma!  Could  we  spare  the  plush 
table-drape? 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Land,  I  had  n't  never  thought  o' 
partin'  with  that!  I  was  goin'  ter  hev  it  on  when 
yer  pa  come  home :  but  there !  mebbe  'twould  be  dark, 
an',  anyhow,  like  as  not,  he'd  never  notice  it,  he'd 
be  so  taken  up  with  you  childern.  Get  it  out,  Sarah 
Maud,  an'  let's  have  a  look  at  it. 


ACT  2]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   73 

(Sarah  Maud  comes  to  front  and  holds  up  the 
sacred  object.  It  is  a  scarf  of  bright-colored  cotton 
plush  with  bold  design  in  lustre  paint  and  cord 
of  many  colors.  It  is  of  appalling  hideousness.) 

SAB  AH  MAUD.  O  Ma!  Can  you  give  it  up? 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (complacently).  It  is  rich,  ain't 
it? 

PETEB.  There  could  n't  be  nothin'  too  rich  for  the 
Birds.  I've  been  all  over  the  house,  'most,  and  I 
know. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  An'  there  ain't  any  use  givin'  a 
present  'thout  you  give  somethin'  worth  while.  Well, 
what  say?  Can  we  do  without  the  table-drape? 

RUGGLES       fPEORiA.  Yes,  ma'am. 

CHILDREN    -I  PETER.  Yes,  sir-ee. 

(together.)      ICoRNELius.  'Course  we  kin. 

LARRY  (slowly;  imitating  Peter).  Yes,  —  sir  -L—  e-e. 

CLEMENT  (having  no  special  love  for  the  beautiful, 
remarks  cheerfully  in  the  same  breath  with  the  others). 
"Let  her  go,  Gallagher!" 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Remember  what  day  't  is,  an* 
don't  talk  slang,  Clement. 

KITTY.  Ma,  may  I  hand  the  table-drape  to  Mis' 
Bird,  when  it  comes  time? 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Yes,  if  you  think  you  can  do  it 
real  nice.  Just  say,  loud  an'  clear,  "From  Mis'  Rug- 
gles  with  the  season's  compliments."  Wrop  it  up 
quick,  Sarah  Maud,  for  fear  I  shall  lose  my  courage 
and  keep  it.  (Sarah  Maud  clumsily  wraps  the  drapef 
Mrs.  Ruggles  watching,  sadly.)  Now  we're  all  ready. 
Don't  let  on  a  word  about  Mr.  Bird's  buyin*  the 


74   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  2 

house  till  we  know  more  about  it.   Remember  about 
the  hats.  — 

(Sarah  Maud  looks  back,  woe-begone,  and  her 

lips  move,  "Such  a  pleasant   evening,  such   a 

short  walk") 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Very  quickly.}  Don't  all  talk  ter 
once.  (Those  in  sight  —  all  but  Sarah  Maud  and  Larry 
—  stop  in  amazement.)  Kitty,  lend  yer  hank'chif  to 
Peory  an'  keep  it  in  plain  sight  all  the  time :  Peter, 
don't  keep  screwin'  yer  scarf-pin:  Cornelius,  hold 
yer  head  up.  (They  are  all  out  now.)  (Mrs.  Ruggles 
leans  out  the  door.)  Sarah  Maud,  don't  take  yer  eyes 
off  of  Lany:  Larry,  keep  holt  o'  Sarah  Maud:  an' 
whatever  yer  do,  all  of  yer,  never  forgit  fer  one 
second  that  yer  mother  was  a  McGrill! 

CUBTAIN 


ACT  III 

THE    ANGEL    OP   THE    CRUTCHES 

SCENE:  Same  as  Act  I,  except  for  lighting,  decoration, 
&nd  presence  of  a  large  table  behind  screen.  The  room 
is  trimmed  with  garlands  of  holly  and  evergreen,  and 
a  bunch  of  mistletoe  hangs  somewhere.  A  Christmas 
Tree  in  smaller  room  is  clearly  seen  whenever  the  doorst 
right,  back,  are  opened. 

When  the  curtain  lifts,  heavy  rose-colored  curtains 
are  drawn  across  the  windows,  shutting  them  from  view 
and  making  the  rear  wall  seem  even.  It  is  before  these 
hangings  that  Carol's  chair  is  placed  when  the  Act 
opens.  The  color  and  lines  of  the  draperies  give  warmth 
to  the  childish  figure,  all  in  white. 

In  the  first  Act,  this  room  was  lighted  entirely  by 
sunlight,  which  streamed  in  through  the  windows  ai 
left.  Now  these  windows  are  hidden  by  the  rose-colored 
curtains,  and  about  the  room  are  placed  four  or  six  tall 
church  candles,  in  candlesticks,  but  supplied  with 
electric  bulbs.  When  the  curtain  lifts,  these  are  not 
lighted;  neither  are  the  candles  on  the  dinner-table, 
which  is  carefully  dressed  and  placed  halfway  down 
stage.  Its  service  is  delicate  and  lacy  in  effect.  The 
table  is  round,  and  so  placed  that  it  is  prominent  when 
wanted,  but  easily  pushed  into  the  background.  Across 
the  back  and  side  are  placed  screens,  which  entirely 
hide  the  table  from  those  on  the  stage,  but  permit  the 
audience  to  watch  the  preparations. 


78   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  S 

The  first  effect  of  the  lifting  of  the  curtain  is  to 
focus  attention  upon  the  slight  droop  of  the  little  figure 
in  the  chair.  As  much  beauty  and  grace  as  it  is  pos- 
sible to  muster  should  go  to  the  forming  of  this  brief 
picture. 

Elfrida  is  arranging  flowers  on  the  table:  Jack  is 
assisting.  In  a  second,  the  door,  right,  front,  opens 
and  Mrs.  Bird  enters.  The  droop  disappears,  and  Carol 
is  erect  and  aglow  with  Christmas  interest. 

CAROL  (with  a  happy  smile  of  greeting,  holding  out 
one  hand).  Is  Daddy  coming  up,  mother? 

MRS.  BIRD  (turning  her  head  so  that  Carol  does  not 
see  the  wrinkle  of  worry  which  the  question  brings). 
He  may  —  later  (quickly),  but  not  while  they're 
eating. 

(Carol  looks  a  bit  disappointed.    Mrs.  Bird 
crosses  to  her  quickly.) 

JACK.  (Steps  forward  from  behind  the  screen.  He 
frowns,  but  then  smiles  at  Carol  and  says  lightly.) 
That's  lucky,  Carol;  and  very  considerate  of  Daddy. 
Could  they  eat  if  dignified  old  Don  stood  looking  on? 
I  hardly  think  so. 

CAROL  (considering  this  point  carefully).  Y-e-s, — 
I  had  n't  thought  of  that.  If  you  did  n't  know  Daddy 
—  he  might  —  frighten  you.  I  almost  wish  we  had 
asked  Dr.  Bob  to  come  to  dinner.  He  is  such  fun, 
and  he 's  one  of  the  family  now! 

MRS.  BIRD.  He  is  coming  for  the  games,  you  know, 
later  on.  He  wouldn't  miss  the  pleasure  for  the 
world! 

ELFBIDA  (coming  out  from  behind  the  screen).  The 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   77 

table  is  quite  ready,  Carol.  Shall  I  light  the  candles 
now? 

CAROL.  It  must  be  almost  time  for  the  children  to 
come,  is  n't  it,  mother  dear? 

MRS.  BIRD.  (Now  stands  slightly  to  right  of  Carol's 
chair.    Jack  is  directly  back,  and  Elfrida  stands  to 
left,  down  stage  by  corner  of  the  screen.)  Almost  time. 
(Elfrida  goes  toward  table.) 

CAROL.  May  I  help,  please? 
(Mrs.  Bird  nods.) 

JACK.  (Goes  to  Carol  to  pick  her  up  in  his  arms* 
Who  but  the  Christmas  Child  could  light  the  candies 
properly? 

CAROL  (smiling  up  at  him).  O  Uncle  Jack,  I'm  too 
big  to  carry :  I  must  walk.  ( Jack  puts  her  down,  slowly. 
Elfrida  pulls  aside  the  screen,  and  Carol  lights  the 
candles  on  the  table,  and  then  clasps  her  hands  in 
delight.)  Is  n't  it  like  a  fairy  dinner-table?  (Holds 
out  one  hand,  and  her  mother  quickly  takes  and 
holds  it.) 

MRS.  BIRD.  Yes,  is  n't  it  dear? 

JACK.  Now  has  the  time  come  for  the  great  effect? 
(Points  to  the  tall  electric  candles  about  the  room.  Carol 
nods.  He  turns  on  the  switch  and  the  room  becomes  a 
bewitching  contest  of  light  and  shade,  the  yellow  light 
of  the  table  candles  contrasting  with  the  pink  light  cast 
by  the  shaded  electric  candles.  The  sound  of  a  bell  ring- 
ing, timidly;  then  a  vigorous  pull.} 

CAROL.  Here  they  come.  Quick,  Elfrida;  the 
screen.  (Elfrida  places  the  screen  before  the  table.) 
Uncle  Jack,  will  you  help?  Mother  and  you  are  the 


78   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

only  ones  who  can  make  them  feel  comfortable  right 

away.  Mother  always  —  knows  how. 

(Jack  helps  Carol  to  her  chair.  Mrs.  Bird  goes 
to  the  door,  and,  as  she  reaches  it,  a  stiff,  correct, 
and  unsmiling  butler  appears.  (Possibly  one 
actor  can  play  both  Mr.  Bird  and  the  butler:  or, 
the  butler,  though  an  addition  to  the  scene,  may  be 
omitted.)  Back  of  him  one  hears  the  clatter  of  many 
shoes  on  slippery  floors.  As  the  butler  stands, 
taking  a  deep  breath  with  which  to  announce 
"  The  Ruggleses,"  the  members  of  this  interesting 
family  begin  slowly  to  ooze  past  him,  —  not  eag- 
erly, but  with  dignity  and  reserve.  Sarah  Maud 
appears  first  and  stands  beside  the  butler,  who  is 
too  astounded  to  close  his  mouth  or  to  let  it  voice 
their  names.  Sarah  Maud's  lips  are  still  telling 
their  social  "beads."  Peter  follows;  his  hands 
glued  to  the  seams  of  his  trousers  and  his  knees 
unbending.  He  steps  beside  Sarah  Maud,  and 
stands  motionless.  Then  Peoria  comes  in,  slowly 
and  with  her  somewhat  sidelong  gait.  They  do 
not  all  look  at  the  butler.  Peoria  gives  him  a  glanct, 
of  open-mouthed  awe.  Cornelius  stubs  his  toe  on 
him  and  looks  up  to  see  what  "did  it."  Kitty 
shakes  his  devitalized  hand  in  passing.  Jack  re- 
tires quickly  behind  the  screen  and  struggles  to 
smother  his  impulse  to  shout  with  laughter.  Kitty 
and  Clement  come  in  quickly,  Kitty  hurrying  to 
keep  ahead  of  Clement,  who  is  the  only  smiling  and 
blithe-spirited  one  in  the  crowd.  After  entering 
they  all  look  at  Mrs.  Bird  with  trepidation.) 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   79 

SARAH  MAUD.  (With  great  speed,  even  before  they 
are  all  in  line.  Mrs.  Bird  waits,  thinking  this  the 
family  training  and  not  caring  to  confuse  them  by  in- 
terruption.) It  —  was  —  such  —  a  —  pleasant  even- 
ing —  an'  —  such  —  a  —  short  —  walk  —  that  —  we 
—  thought  —  we  thought  —  we  thought  — 

KITTY  (helping  out).  That  we  thought  —  we  had 
n't  good  hats  enough  to  go  round.  (Ruggles  tableau!! 
Kitty  continues,  in  order  to  hide  her  terrible  slip  and 
change  the  subject  at  any  cost.)  Here's  a  present  for 
you,  Mis'  Bird,  —  a  table-drape  from  mother  with 
the  best  of  the  season's  compliminks.  (Unrolls 
"drape,"  which  has  such  an  effect  on  Jack  that  Mrs. 
Bird  is  obliged  to  warn  him  by  a  gesture.) 

MRS.  BIRD.  It  was  a  good  idea  to  leave  your  hats 
at  home,  and  I  am  very  much  obliged  for  my  nice 
Christmas  present.  Now  will  you  come  and  speak 
to  Carol?  She's  — 

(The  line  of  Ruggleses  starts  to  file  across  stage. 
Jack  stands  back  of  Carol's  chair.) 

CAROL  (suddenly).  Where's  Larry?  Didn't  he 
come? 

(The  line  stops  and  takes  a  breath  of  worry,  each 
one  staring  down  the  line  of  brothers  c*td  sisters.) 

SARAH  MAUD.  (Whispers.)  Where's  Larry? 

CLEMENT.  Gracious!  Where  is  Larry? 

KITTY.  I  know  he  came,  'cause  he  stumbled  over 
the  mat  downstairs,  and  I  scolded  him.  I  wish't  I 
had  n't  now. 

JACK.  Well,  well!  (Laughing.)  Are  you  quite  cer- 
tain there  were  more  of  you? 


80    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACTS 

PEORIA  (timidly,  and  wriggling  away  a  bit).  I  think 

so,  sir.  (More  quickly.}  But,  anyhow,  there  was  Larry. 

(Her  expression  is  very  tearful  and  her  lips 

tremble.    Carol  reaches  out  and  draws  Peoria  to 

her.) 

JACK.  Cheer  up.  Probably  he's  not  lost  —  only 
mislaid.  I  '11  find  him  for  you. 

(Crosses  stage  to  door,  right.  Sarah  Maud  turns 
and  follows  closely  at  his  heels.  At  the  door  he 
turns  to  say  something  reassuring;  sees  Sarah 
Maud;  is  surprised.) 

SARAH  MAUD  (stammering).  I'll  —  I'll  go,  too,  if 
you  please,  sir  (more  firmly)',  for  it's  my  place  to 
mind  him,  an'  if  he's  lost  (an  outburst)  — I  can't 
relish  my  vittles! 

(The  Ruggleses  stand  breathing  heavily  and 
watching  the  door  anxiously.    It  is  open,  and 
Sarah  Maud  is  heard.) 
SARAH  MAUD.  Larry!  Larry! 
LARRY.  (Outside.  Plainly.)  Here  I  be! 
SARAH  MAUD.  (Outside.)  Come  to  Sarah  Maud. 
LARRY  (still  invisible).    I  can't.     Sum —  sum — 
sumpin's  —  got  me! 

(Clatter  of  sticks  falling;  then  Jack  reappearst 
leading  Larry,  and  Sarah  Maud  follows.) 
JACK.   He  got  lost  —  in  your  grove  of  umbrellas, 
Mary.  No  wonder  he  was  frightened.  How  could  he 
know  there  were  n't  alligators  and  — 

CAROL  (holding  up  her  finger,  warningly,  and  laugh- 
ing). Now,  Uncle  Jack!  You  promised  —  you'd  be 
good. 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   81 

JACK  (with  exaggerated  alarm,  turning  to  Carol, 
while  Mrs.  Bird  takes  Larry,  and  Elfrida  stands  by 
the  screen,  waiting  for  the  signal) .  Did  I  promise  that? 
CAROL.  You  did.  And  will  you  please  help  El- 
frida with  the  screens?  (Jack  crosses  to  screen.)  Be- 
cause, I  think  we  're  ready. 

(The  Ruggleses  are  all  facing  to  left.  As  Carol 

says  "ready,"  Elfrida  pushes  back  the  screen  and 

Jack  takes  it  away.    Mrs.  Bird  goes  to  door, 

right,  opens  it,  and  the  butler  enters   and  waits 

in  the  door  with  a  tray  bearing  the  turkey.    The 

Ruggleses  stand  motionless  as  the  beauty  of  the 

table  slowly  penetrates  their  slow  little  minds.) 

LARRY  (after  a  pause,  gives  a  happy  toss  of  his  head, 

a  gurgle  of  delight,  and  then  trots  blithely  across  stage 

and  clambers  into  the  high  chair,  center  of  table,  back. 

He  claps  his  hands  in  ecstasy  as  he  surveys  the  table, 

rests  his  fat  little  arms  on  the  table  and  cries  aloud,  his 

whole  body  a-quiver  with  delight).   I  beat  the  hull  lot 

o'  yer!!! 


82    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

(In  the  confusion  which  follows  the  laugh,  Carol 
flutters  to  the  table,  and  without  outward  appear- 
ance of  direction  the  Ruggleses  are  seated.  Busi- 
ness of  fumbling  with  the  napkins,  Sarah  Maud 
and  Peter  first  sticking  them  in  at  their  necks,  then 
remembering  and  retrieving  their  errors.  Various 
bits  of  awkwardness  will  characterize  each  mem- 
ber of  the  family  as  the  scene  is  rehearsed.) 

(The  butler  holds  the  tray,  very  steadily  and 
unsmilingly.  Mrs.  Bird  watches  with  motherly 
eye,  and  rescues  embarrassed  Ruggleses  from  vari- 
ous difficulties.) 

(Jack  and  Elfrida  take  the  turkey  platter  from 
the  butler's  tray  and  place  it  on  the  table  before  the 
entranced  Ruggleses.  Butler  exits  for  vegetables, 
and  throughout  the  scene  comes  and  goes,  bringing 
and  taking  away  dishes.) 

MRS.  BIRD.  (In  the  moment  of  quiet  which  succeeds 
seating  at  the  table.  Standing  behind  Carol's  chair.) 
Jack,  Elfrida,  children:  It  is  n't  exactly  like  a  grace, 
but  Carol  will  say  something  that  she  has  said  at 
every  Christmas  dinner  since  she  was  old  enough 
to  talk. 

(Carol  rises  a  little  from  her  chair,  leaning  on 
her  crutch.  As  she  bows  her  head,  Jack  and  Mrs. 
Bird  and  Elfrida  do  the  same:  one  Ruggles  after 
another  follows  suit,  magnetized  by  the  silence. 
Peter  gently  bows  Larry's  for  him,  when  he  glances 
up  and  discovers  that  the  child  does  not  quite  com- 
prehend.) 

(The  chief  Angel  of  the  Prologue  parts  the  cur- 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   83 

tains  at  the  window,  back;  stands  for  a  moment 
with  finger  on  lip;  then  bows  her  head.) 
(Pause.) 

CABOL. 

The  Baby  born  in  Bethlehem 

A  sorry  shelter  had, 
While  we  who  gather  here  to-night 

Are  warm  and  softly  clad. 

The  Baby  born  in  Bethlehem 

Was  fed  on  humble  fare, 
And  yet  our  board  is  richly  spread 

With  dainty  food  and  rare. 

Our  beds  are  downy-smooth  and  white, 

He  slumbered  in  the  hay: 
Tis  good  that  we  remember  this 

Each  blessed  Christmas  Day. 

And  good  that  we  remember,  too, 
To  pay  our  thanks  and  praise 

To  Heav'nly  Love  that  brought  us  here 
And  gave  this  Day  of  days. 

(The  Angel  retreats  softly,  closing  the  curtains 
after  her.  Jack,  Mrs.  Bird,  and  Elfrida  show  in 
their  faces  various  emotions.  Then  Jack  takes  the 
turkey  off  the  table  to  carve;  the  butler  enters  with 
vegetables;  Elfrida  and  Mrs.  Bird  help  about  the 
table,  and  in  a  moment,  though  gradually,  the 
spirit  of  jollity  and  fun  is  resumed  and  as  grad- 
ually mounts.) 


84   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

(Carol  leans  over  and  pins  a  sprig  of  holly  first 
on  Larry's  dress,  then  on  Cornelius's  jacket.  Then, 
as  there  is  opportunity,  each  Ruggles  comes  to  her 
chair,  in  turn,  and  receives  his  Christmas  decora-* 
tion.) 

PETER  (nudging  Kitty  and  whispering  noisily}. 
Look,  will  yen  ev'ry  feller's  got  his  own  partic'lar 
butter. 

KITTT.  (Same  business.}  I  s'pose  it's  to  show  you 
can  eat  that  much  an'  no  more.  And  see!  the  nap- 
kins is  marked  with  big  letters. 

(Butler  removes  tray  filled  with  plates.} 
PETER.  I  s'pose  that's  so's  nobody '11  nip  'em. 
Why  don't  that  stuffed  club  that  brings  the  vittles 
in  set  down  with  us? 

(Mrs.  Bird,  Jack,  and  Elfrida  busy  about  table.) 
CLEMENT  (pleased).    The  plums  is  all  took  out  o1 
my  cramb'ry  sarse,  an'  it's  friz  to  a  stiff  jell. 

LARRY.  (A  loud  peal  of  joy  as  he  beats  on  the  table 
with  his  fists.}  Hi-yah!  I  got  a  wish-bone! 

(Sarah  Maud,  pale  and  trembling,  rises  slowly.) 
SARAH  MAUD.  I  guess  I'd  better  change  my  seat. 
Larry  gen'ally  sets  beside  me,  and  he  might  feel 
strange. 

(Peter  and  Sarah  Maud  change  places.) 
PETER  (coming  around  table  says  to  Clement).  She 
tfants  to  set  where  she  can  kick  him  under  the  table 
when  he  goes  wrong. 

KITTY.   I  declare  to  goodness,  there's  so  much  to 
look  at  I  can't  scarcely  eat  nothin'. 
CLEMENT.  Bet  yer  life  I  can.  (Illustrates  liberally.) 


ACT  S]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    85 

(Indeed,  everybody  is  very  busy,  eating  and 
serving.  The  bored  butler  has  returned  with  a 
tray  of  steaming  dishes.  Mrs.  Bird  is  superin- 
tending. Jack  and  Elfrida  busy  placing  and  re- 
moving dishes.  Elfrida  leans  over  and  cuts  up 
morsels  for  the  smaller  ones.  Carol  is  beaming  and 
nodding,  etc.,  etc.,  when 

THE   CURTAIN  FALLS   FOR   A    MINUTE   OF    INTERMIS- 
SION, which  represents  a  half-hour.) 
(The  scene  when  the  curtain  descends  must  be 
one  of  great  eating  activity  on  the  part  of  the  Rug- 
gleses.    Elbows  are  bowed,  and  knives  and  forks 
are  being  plied  with  more  zest  than  skill.) 

(Carol  is  beaming  and  happy,  but  not  eating.) 
(Mrs.  Bird  is  watching  Carol  first,  then  the 
Ruggleses.  Jack  is  intent  upon  carrying  heavy 
dishes  for  Elfrida,  then  convulsed  at  the  spectacle 
of  the  Ruggleses;  and  all  this  he  interrupts  to  hover 
about,  touch,  and  smile  at  Carol,  tenderly.) 


(When  the  curtain  lifts  again,  the  only  light  of 
the  room  is  from  the  table  candles.  The  table  is 
almost  free  of  dishes,  but  is  surrounded  now  by 
a  very  different-looking  lot  of  children.  Each  one 
wears  a  cap  of  soft-colored  tissue  paper.  The  torn 
bonbons  are  upon  the  floor  and  the  table.  Festivity 
has  banished  all  consciousness  of  social  shortcom- 
ings.) 
LARRY.  (Climbs  down  from  his  chair  slowly;  walks 

center  of  stage;  speaks  slowly  and  sadly.)  I  can't  eat 

nothing  more! 


86    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

(All  the  other  little  Ruggleses  rise,  slowly.) 
PETER.  If  they'd  'a'  passed  the  puddin'  again,  I 
could  n't  'a'  swallered  it:  I'd  'a'  had  to  hang  it  on 
the  outside. 

(Jack  pulls  bacJc  Carol's  chair  and  is  about  to 
hand  her  the  crutch  when  Clement  steps  up,  embar- 
rassed.) 

CLEMENT  (with  a  tenderness  which  conquers  his 
awkwardness).  Say!  Lem-me,  will  yer? 

(Jack  hesitates.  Carol  nods  to  him,  puts  her 
hand  on  Clement's  arm  and  rises  slowly  and  pauses, 
resting  upon  his  shoulder.  He  stands  very  still 
and  very  proudly.) 

(Unaccustomed  to  napkins,  the  Ruggleses  for- 
get them,  and  as  they  stand,  the  napkins  fall  to  the 
floor.  Careful  Sarah  Maud  goes  about  painfully 
picking  up  and  folding  each  one  until  Elfrida 
rescues  her  (all  this  in  business;  no  words).  As 
Elfrida  takes  the  napkins  from  her,  Sarah  Maud 
becomes  conscious  of  the  waiting  group  of  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  walking  slowly  around  the  table, 
comes  down  stage,  center.) 

SARAH  MAUD  (reluctantly,  but  conscientiously).    I 
—  I  guess  we'd  better  be  a-goin'. 

(The  joy  fades  from  the  other  Ruggleses'  faces. 
There  is  a  moment  of  suspense.) 
CAROL  (brightly;  laughingly).  Oh,  no,  no!  Not  yet, 
Sarah  Maud.  (Puts  her  arm  into  Sarah  Maud's.  Clem- 
ent has  led  Carol  to  center  of  stage,  and  the  other  little 
Ruggleses  have  instinctively  grouped  themselves  about 
her,  so  that,  when  Sarah  Maud  joins  them,  the  grouping 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    87 

is  suggestive  of  the  half-moon  shielding  the  bright  star. 
Mrs.  Bird  is  to  the  right,  Elfrida  at  the  table,  and  Jack 
outside  the  half-moon,  to  left.  Carol  glances  at  Mrs. 
Bird.)  Is  it  ready,  mother? 

MRS.  BIRD.  Yes,  dear.  (Goes  to  the  doors,  right, 
back.) 

CAROL.  Then  we  '11  go  with  mother. 

(She  directs  their  attention  to  the  doorway  as 
Mrs.  Bird  opens  the  doors.  The  Ruggleses  stand 
amazed  for  a  minute,  then  break  into  shouts  of  joy, 
and,  forgetting  Carol,  scamper,  shouting,  into 
the  next  room.  Carol  tries  to  limp  after  them,  to 
keep  up  with  them  —  but  cannot.  A  slight  look 
of  pain  is  in  her  eyes.  Jack  leaps  to  her  side,  and 
her  smile  welcomes  and  thanks  him  as  he  helps 
her  across  the  threshold.  He  stands  in  the  door  a 
moment  watching  her;  closes  the  door  quickly; 
turns  around,  his  whole  attitude  bespeaking  an 
almost  unbearable  heartache.  Elfrida's  attitude 
shows  that  she  shares  his  fears.  She  steps  forward 
with  an  involuntary  desire  to  help.  Pause.) 
ELFRIDA  (softly).  After  all,  it's  such  a  happy,  useful 
little  life! 

JACK  (with  a  sigh  of  assent).  Yes.  Thank  you  for 
reminding  me.  (He  comes  nearer  Elfrida,  slowly.) 
She's  an  angel:  so  is  her  mother:  you're  not  a  bad 
imitation,  yourself.  Even  I  —  get  off  the  ground  a 
bit  when  I  'm  with  her.  My  brother  keeps  down  the 
average  successfully:  nothing  angelic  about  him,  at 
the  moment.  Are  n't  you  coming  in  to  the  Christmas 
tree?  (Turns  to  the  door,  right,  back.) 


88    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

ELFRIDA.  I  will  put  all  this  right,  first.  (Points  to 
table;  picks  up  napkins,  etc.) 

JACK.  Let  that  effigy  of  a  butler  do  it. 

ELFRIDA.  He's  busy  downstairs. 

JACK.  Let  me  help:  I'm  a  lot  more  agreeable  than 
he  is. 

ELFRIDA.  (Hesitates.')  It  is  n't  necessary. 

JACK.  Necessities  are  cheap  and  obvious:  I'm 
willing  to  be  a  luxury. 

ELFRIDA.  Are  n't  you  needed  —  in  there? 

(Jack  opens  the  door,  slightly.  There  is  sound 
of  childish  laughter.) 

LARRY  (shouting,  within).  Hurrah! 

JACK.  I  think  they  can  spare  me.  (Crosses  to  El- 
frida  and  helps  her  pick  up  the  broken  bonbons.) 

ELFRIDA.  Is  n't  it  odd  that  Mrs.  Ruggles  has  n't 
come?  She  must  have  understood  our  invitation. 

JACK  (with  slight  sarcasm).  My  brother  may  be 
entertaining  her  in  the  drawing-room. 

ELFRIDA.  (Smiles  at  the  improbability  and  turns 
back  to  table.)  Will  you  snuff  the  candles,  please? 

(Crosses  to  right  and  switches  back  the  lights. 
Jack  goes  to  table;  leans  over  and  blows  out  the 
candles,  but  watches  Elfrida  as  he  does  so  and 
smiles  to  himself  quizzically.) 

JACK.  (Picks  up  one  of  the  larger  sprigs  of  holly  from 
the  centerpiece;  goes  nearer  Elfrida  and  just  touches 
her  nurse's  cap  lightly  for  a  single  second.)  Take  it  off, 
please,  and  let  me  put  this  in. 

ELFRIDA  (flushing).  It  is  my  badge:  it  never  dis- 
turbs me. 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    89 

JACK.  Nor  me!  It  is  honorable,  and  lovely,  and 
'  ecoming:  but,  as  Carol  says,  it  is  n't  "  Christmasy." 

,on't  you  wear  the  holly  instead?  Remember,  it  is 
a  holiday! 

ELFRIDA.  I  don't  want  to  forget  that  I  'm  a  nurse, 
Mr.  Jack. 

JACK.  No;  and  you  don't  want  any  one  else  to, 
either!  Do  take  off  that  thing  and  put  in  the  holly, 
dear  —  Miss  Elf rida !  (Elfrida  does  so,  Jack  aiding  a 
little.  Jack  stands  off,  admiringly.)  Now  you 're  much 
less  professional,  and  much  more  "Christmasy." 

ELFRIDA.  (Blushes,  then  resumes  her  businesslike 
manner.)  Now  the  table,  please.  We  '11  push  it  back, 
out  of  the  way. 

(They  do  so,  placing  chairs  about  it,  and  the 
screens  around  it  all,  hiding  it  completely.  El- 
frida has  the  tablecloth  gathered  up  in  her  arms. 
Jack  holds  the  candlesticks.  Elfrida  leads  the  way 
to  the  door,  right;  and  Jack  follows.) 

ELFRIDA  (at  the  door).  I  can  manage  quite  well  — 

JACK.  Without  me?  (Laughs.)  That's  what  I'm 
afraid  of ;  so  I  want  to  prove  that  you  can't.  (Bran- 
dishing candlesticks.)  Room  for  the  light-bearer, 
please. 

ELFRIDA.  (Is  about  to  yield;  then  remembers.)  Carol 
will  be  waiting  for  you.  She  '11  want  you  to  amuse 
the  children. 

JACK  (handing  her  the  candles).  You're  right  (he 
holds  the  door  open) ;  as  women  occasionally  are,  even 
when  they  are  inclined  to  be  stubborn.  (Smiles  at 
her.  She  flushes  and  turns  quickly,  meeting  Mr.  Bird.) 


90    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

ELFRIDA.  Oh!  I  beg  your  —  (Exits.) 

JACK.  Well,  Don,  you ' ve  missed  — 

MR.  BIRD  (entering  as  he  speaks).  I've  missed 
nothing!  I've  heard  every  shout,  every  clatter.  By 
George,  I  could  almost  hear  the  little  beasts  bolting 
their  food.  How  any  one  can  imagine  this  is  a  decent 
way  of  celebrating  a  holiday,  I  can't  think.  (Crosses 
to  left,  impatiently.) 

JACK.  (Goes  up  stage  to  double  doors.)  Come  here 
a  minute,  Don. 

MR.  BIRD  (impatiently).  What  —  Oh,  I  don't  want 
to  see  them,  I  tell  you.  It's  bad  enough  to  know 
they  're  here. 

JACK.  It  is  n't  the  Ruggleses  I  want  you  to  see; 
it's  Carol. 

MR.  BIRD.  (Comes  to  center  of  stage.  In  the  more 
relenting  mood  that  accompanies  any  mention  of  Carol.) 
Is  she  enjoying  herself  ? 

JACK.  Come  and  see  for  yourself. 

(Mr.  Bird  hesitates,  then  walks  quickly  to  the 
door.  Jack  holds  it  open,  and  the  two  men  stand, 
looking  in.  Sound  of  laughing  is  heard.) 

MR.  BIRD  (smiling  in  spite  of  himself).  Yes,  she 
is  —  happy. 

PEORIA.  (A  little  shriek  from  within.)  That 's  my 
candy,  Peter! 

(Crash,  as  of  accidental  drop  of  glass  or  metal.) 

MR.  BIRD.  (Turns away.)  Close  the  door;  do!  Just 
as  I  expected,  —  they  are  forgetting  themselves 
and  their  place. 

JACK.  Oh,  I  say,  Don!  Let  the  little  duffers  have 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    91 

a  good  time  once  in  their  lives.  They  '11  soon  be  going 
home  now,  and  it  will  be  all  over,  and  — 

MR.  BIRD.  (Walks  center  stage.)  Over?    It's  just 
beginning !  There 's  New  Years's  to  come,  and  Valen- 
tine's Day,  and  Washington's  Birthday!    All  high 
days  and  holidays  will  be  packed  with  Ruggleses. 
There's  no  way  to  end  it  but  moving  them  away. 
JACK.  Don!  What  are  you  talking  about! 
MB.  BIRD.   The  Ruggleses.    I  own  their  house: 
I  'm  going  to  take  it  down  and  put  up  a  conservatory 
in  its  place.   I've  always  intended  to  do  it,  sooner 
or  later. 

JACK.  It's  a  poor  day  to  plan  an  eviction. 
MR.  BIRD.  Eviction?  Stuff  —  nonsense!  Who 
said  anything  about  eviction?  I'm  hardly  the  man 
for  that  sort  of  performance.  They  will  have  reason- 
able notice  and  find  another  house.  I  dare  say  I  shall 
even  find  one  for  them,  if  only  to  pacify  Carol. 

(Door,  right,  front,  opens.) 

ELFRIDA.  (At  door,  in  joyous  voice.)  Come  right  in 
here,  Mrs.  Ruggles,  and  I  '11  call  Mrs.  Bird. 

MR.  BIRD  (looking  toward  the  double  doors;  then 
toward  the  other  door,  for  escape.  Huffily).  And  now 
it's  Mrs.  Ruggles!  Ugh! 

(Jack  steps  forward  to  welcome  Mrs.  Ruggles. 
Elfrida  stands  one  side  of  door;  Mr.  Bird  center 
of  stage,  when  Mrs.  Ruggles  enters,  very  slowly 
and  with  very  great  dignity.  She  has  made  a  brave 
"best"  with  her  toilet,  but  she  must  NOT  be  a 
CARICATURE:  the  plainest,  even  shabbiest,  dark 
dress;  perhaps  a  cheap  wrap  of  "circular"  variety; 


92   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

a  bonnet  which  might  have  a  single  note  of  comedy, 
say,  bright  green  strings  or  a  red  velvet  rose.) 
JACK  (holding  out  his  hand,  cordially).  Good-even- 
ing, Mrs.  Ruggles.    Merry  Christmas!  (Elf rida  exits 
door  at  back.)  This  is  my  brother,  Mr.  Bird,  Mrs. 
Ruggles. 

(Mrs.  Ruggles,  who,  it  must   be  remembered, 
was  a   McGrill,  moves  confidently  and  breezily 
toward  Mr.  Bird,  hand  extended.    His  hand  is 
not  at  all  in  evidence  until  obliged.) 
MRS.  RUGGLES  (as  Mr.  Bird  gingerly  yields  her 
his  hand.   Pause).  It  is  a  pleasure  to  shake  you  by 
the  hand,  Mr.  Bird. 

(Pause.  Mr.  Bird  fidgets  uncomfortably  and 
tries  to  find  words  with  which  to  release  his 
hand.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  We  've  been  neighbors,  you  might 
say,  for  more'n  a  year,  you  an'  me:  but  I  don't 
know's  we'd  ever  met  if  it  had  n't  been  for  our  chil- 
dern.  They  begun  it,  an*  now  you're  followin'  suit 
—  in  more  ways  'n  one,  so  I  hear.  (Meaningly,  for  she 
refers  not  only  to  the  invitation,  but  to  the  buying  of  the 
house.) 

(Mr.  Bird  takes  away  his  hand,  which  by  this 
time  has  been  well  squeezed;  turns  (not  too 
abruptly);  and  walks  to  left.  Jack  steps  to  Mrs. 
Ruggles's  side.) 

JACK  (quickly).  The  dinner  was  entirely  Carol's 
idea,  Mrs.  Ruggles. 

MR.  BIRD.  Exactly.  I  had  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  it. 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   93 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  I  'm  not  talkin'  about  the  dinner. 
(This  with  cheerful  and  humorous  meaning.) 

JACK.  Not  the  dinner? 

MBS.  RUGGLES  (smiling  at  Mr.  Bird).  No;  I'm 
talkin'  'bout  the  house  an'  my  new  landlord. 

MB.  BIBD.  The  house? 

MBS.  RUGGLES.  Yes.  Mis'  Cullen  was  a-tellin* 
my  Con  you've  bought  it,  an'  it's  for  that  I  wanted 
to  thank  you.  It's  a  comf 'table  feelin',  Mr.  Bird, 
to  know  you're  changin'  a  rude,  common  man,  like 
Carter's  agent,  to  a  fine  gentleman  like  yourself. 

MB.  BIRD.  Er  —  ah  —  we  '11  talk  about  that  later, 
Mrs.  Ruggles. 

MBS.  RUGGLES.  Oh,  I  know  a  s'ciety  party  like 
this  one  ain't  any  place  for  us  to  have  a  good  talk 
over  things.  I  ain't  intendin'  to  mix  pleasure  an* 
business;  an'  I  wa'n't  plannin'  to  say  nothin'  at  all 
about  the  smoky  chimney,  nor  the  leakin'  roof,  nor 
any  of  the  little  repairs  — 

MB.  BIRD  (tersely).  I  wouldn't  plan  too  much, 
for  — 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (quickly;  apologetically).  No,  no, 
sir.  I  ain't  plannin'  at  all.  It  ain't  the  improvements 
I'm  thinkin'  about  —  though  they'll  be  welcome; 
it's  just  the  grand  surprise  of  it,  comin'  to-day. 
(Jack  watches  Mr.  Bird  closely.) 

MR.  BIBD  (abruptly).  I'd  rather  not  talk  about 
the  house,  now,  please.  It 's  — 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Sees  his  manner  and  expression 
bode  no  good.  Disturbed  and  conscious  of  having  made 
some  mistake,  and  so  anxious  to  amend  that  she  offends 


04    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

further).  I'm  sorry,  sir,  'f  I've  done  wrong  in  men- 
tionin'  our  poor  little  troubles.  'T  ain't  because  I 
expect  you  to  lay  out  money  an'  fix  up  the  house  for 
them  that's  only  strangers. 

MB.  BIRD  (irritated  by  her  manner  and  his  con- 
science). I've  no  intention  of  "fixing  it  up," 
madam  — 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (interrupting,  and  thereby  increasing 
his  displeasure}.  Indeed,  sir,  I  ain't  askin'  you  to. 
"Let  all  that  come  from  Mr.  Bird,"  I  says  to  Peter 
this  mornin'.  (Comes  nearer  to  him,  timidly  and  grate- 
fully.) I'm  only  glad  it's  Carol's  father  'as  bought 
it,  an'  I  know  well  enough  you  did  it  to  please  her. 

MR.  BIRD  (impatiently).  My  good  woman,  I 
bought  the  house  — 

JACK.  (Steps  toward  center  and  touches  his  arm, 
impetuously.)  Don! 

MR.  BIRD  (resenting  the  interference,  shuts  his  lips 
firmly  as  he  returns  Jack's  look).  I  bought  the  house, 
Mrs.  Ruggles,  because  I  find  I  must  take  it  down  and 
use  the  piece  of  ground  for  a  conservatory. 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  catches  her  breath;  her  hands  give 
a  motion  of  protest;  then  she  remembers,  and 
makes  an  attempt  to  smile.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Tear  —  it  —  down!  (Wipes  her 
mouth,  nervously.  Mr.  Bird  crosses  to  left  and  stands 
iffith  his  back  toward  Mrs.  Ruggles,  as  though  unwilling 
to  witness  her  trouble.  Jack  crosses  to  Mrs.  Ruggles, 
and  "stands  by,"  as  the  nautical  term  is.  Mrs.  Ruggles 
looks  up  at  Jack  and  speaks  as  though  hoping  she  has 
misunderstood.)  Did  he  say  "tear  it  down"? 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   95 

(The  knob  of  door,  right,  back,  rattles.} 
CAEOL  (heard,  but  not  seen).   All  right,  Dr.  Bob. 
I'll  rest  a  minute  —  just  to  please  you. 

(Mr.  Bird  turns  at  the  sound  of  Carol's  voice.) 
JACK.  (Goes  to  Mrs.  Ruggles.  Speaks  gently.) 
Please  don't  let  the  child  see  that  anything  is  wrong. 
(Mrs.  Ruggles  nods  up  at  him,  and  assumes  a  more 
cheerful  manner.)  And  you  count  on  me,  anyway. 
Do  you  understand? 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (nervously).  Thank  you,  sir;  but 
I  guess  I  'd  better  be  a-goin'. 

JACK.  Not  for  the  world.  See  how  Carol  is  watch- 
ing for  you. 

(Mrs.  Ruggles  steps  up  stage  so  that  she  is 
opposite  the  double  doors.  Jack  stands  right,  Mr. 
Bird  still  at  left  and  slightly  in  the  shadow.) 

(Carol  comes  in,  slowly;  sees  Mrs.  Ruggles; 
limps  toward  her  in  quick,  eager  welcome,  one 
hand  outstretched.  Mrs.  Ruggles  steps  forward 
quickly  to  meet  her  greeting.) 

CAROL  (gayly).  O  Mrs.  Ruggles!  We're  so  glad! 
Now  that  you've  come,  Christmas  is  just  perfect: 
is  n't  it,  mother? 

MRS.  BIRD  (coming  forward  in  welcome,  stands  back 
of  Carol,  who  is  thus  between  the  two  mothers,  both  of 
whom  are  watching  her  tenderly  and  protectingly). 
We're  very  pleased  to  have  you  with  us,  Mrs.  Rug- 


MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Holds  Carol's  hand  and  pats  it 
with  slow,  protecting,  and  unconscious  gesture  as  her 
eyes  return  the  smile  in  Carol's  eyes.)  [Blessed  little 


96   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

creetur!  (Touches  her  hand  softly.)  You've  allus 
ben  settin'  up  in  the  winder,  like  a  lily  growin'  under 
glass,  an'  I  ain't  never  seen  yer,  close  to.  I  hope  yer 
ain't  steppin'  on  yer  lame  leg  too  much. 

CAROL.  (Thanks  her  with  a  glance.)  Not  a  bit.  O 
Uncle  Jack !  (Points  her  finger  at  him.)  You  're  desert- 
ing Dr.  Bob,  and  Elfrida  needs  you  —  to  help  with 
the  games. 

JACK.  Games?  Very  well.  I  fly  at  the  word  of 
command. 

(Exit  Jack.) 

(Mr.  Bird  walks  up  stage,  center;  stands  with 
his  hands  on  Carol's  chair;  pushes  it  forward, 
slightly.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (trying  to  get  in  touch  with  the  com- 
pany and  party,  and  always  endeavoring  to  express 
her  gratitude).  Well,  Miss  Carol,  everybody  is  having 
a  sure-enough  celebration  to-day,  thanks  to  you. 

MR.  BIRD.  Come,  Carol;  rest.  You've  been  doing 
altogether  too  much. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Comes  forward,  her  motherly  anxi- 
ety to  the  fore,  though  shown  in  a  too  voluble  and  bustling 
sympathy.)  That's  just  what  I  was  a-f eared  of, 
though  I  made  the  childern  promise  to  be  careful 
and  quiet.  But  you  know 'bout  childern!  They  fer- 
git,  sometimes;  and  mine  ain't  had  the  advantages 
I  had  when  I  was  their  age,  movin'  in  the  best  circles 
o'  Pittsburg,  you  might  say,  though  my  brother, 
bein'  a  policeman,  was  obliged  to  live  right  in  town, 
to  be  near  his  job.  I've  trained  'em  all  I  could  for 
this  party;  but  you  know  well  'nough  how  't  is  'bout 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   97 

s'ciety  —  you've  got  to  go  into  it  more'n  once  to 
make  good! 

MRS.  BIKD.  The  children  have  behaved  beauti- 
fully. 

CAROL  (ecstatically).  Have  n't  they,  mother! 
And  haven't  we  had  a  good  time?  It's  been  the 
very  happiest  of  all  the  Christmases. 

MR.  BIRD.  Happiest,  Carol? 

CAROL.  Yes,  Daddy;  the  very  happiest!  (Slowly 
and  shyly.)  I  can't  just  put  it  into  words  —  but, 
somehow,  to-night,  I've  had  some  one  to  play  and 
dance  my  feelings  for  me. 

(Mr.  Bird  gives  a  quick  gesture.    It  is  a  new 
idea  to  him.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (proudly).  My  Kitty  is  real  lively 
on  her  legs.  If  't  wa'n't  so  kind  o'  risky,  I  dunno 
but  I'd  let  her  be  one  o'  them  stage  dancers. 

CAROL.  It  is  n't  Kitty  only;  it's  Clem,  and  Larry, 
and  Peter,  and  Peory,  —  and  Cornelius,  —  and 
Sarah  Maud. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  (Claps  her  hands  with  an  amazed 
smile).  NOT  —  Sarah  Maud! 

CAROL.  Oh,  yes:  Sarah  Maud  most  of  all! 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  You  don't  ever  mean  Sarah  Maud 
—  dancin' ! 

CAROL  (with  a  child's  literal  honesty).  Well  —  not 
really  —  and  truly  —  dancing:  —  but  almost. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  Then  it's  your  sweet  little  self 
that  done  it.  (Looks  her  wonder  into  Mrs.  Bird's 
watching  eyes.)  Sarah  Maud  almost  dancin'!  It's 
somethin'  she  ain't  never  had  time  to  do  afore. 


98   THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL    [ACT  3 

CAROL.  Oh,  yes!  —  with  Larry,  in  the  yard:  I've 
seen  her. 

MRS.  RUGGLES.  That'sdooty!  Sarah  Maud  would 
dance  for  dooty  all  day  an'  all  night. 

MRS.  BIRD.  Well,  it  was  n't  duty  this  evening:  it 
was  joy,  as  Carol  says.  (Looks  at  Mr.  Bird,  who  moves 
uneasily,  troubled  that  he  is  touched.) 

CAROL  (putting  her  hand  on  Mrs.  Ruggles' s  arm). 
And  it  was  your  children  that  made  it  all.  We  almost 
ought  to  thank  you,  Mrs.  Ruggles,  for  having  such 
a  nice  —  large  —  family. 

(Mr.  Bird  moves,  uneasily.  Mrs.  Bird  smiles.) 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (embarrassed).  Oh,  you  're  quite 
welcome.  Sometimes  I've  thought,  myself,  't  was 
a  little  mite  —  too  large;  but,  after  all,  Ruggles  an' 
I  could  n't  spare  none  of  'em. 

CAROL.  Neither  could  I.  (Mr.  Bird  looks  up, 
quickly.)  Sometimes,  when  it  seems  awfully  long 
to  wait  before  they  come  home  from  school,  I  think 
how  lonely  I  'd  be  —  if  they  did  n't  come  home  at 
all. 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (slowly).  Yes;  —  I'd  be  lonesome 
enough,  too,  —  'thout  that.  Land  sakes !  it 's  all 
there  is,  —  with  Ruggles  allers  off  ter  sea. 

(Mr.  Bird  is  breathing  slowly,  and  with  less  and 
less  of  his  usual  aplomb.) 

MRS.  BIRD  (brightly).  We're  keeping  Mrs.  Ruggles 
from  the  Tree,  Carol. 

CAROL.  Oh,  dear!  How  could  we  forget?  She  has 
n't  even  seen  it.  Daddy  (Mr.  Bird  steps  to  her  side 
and  stands  beside  her  affectionately),  will  you  take 


ACT  3]    THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   99 

Mrs.  Ruggles  in  to  the  Tree,  please?  (Mrs.  Ruggles 
is  embarrassed.  Mr.  Bird  hesitates.)  I  want  mother 
a  minute  all  to  myself. 

MB.  BIRD.  I  'm  afraid  you  're  tired. 

CAROL  (brightly).  No,  indeed;  — but  Dr.  Bob 
says  I  must  rest  a  few  minutes.  Won't  you  go  in 
and  play  with  the  children,  Daddy  dear,  —  just  for 
a  little  while? 

MR.  BIRD  (slowly).  I'm  not  much  good  at  that  sort 
of  thing,  Carol. 

CAROL  (smiling  up  at  him).  Oh,  yes,  you  are, 
Daddy,  —  when  you  feel  like  it. 

MR.  Brno  (turning  his  eyes  away).  They've  Uncle 
Jack;  they  don't  need  me. 

CAROL  (pulling  his  sleeve  and  waiting  until  he  looks 
at  her).  But,  Daddy,  you  have  n't  been  part  of  this 
Christmas  at  all,  yet! 

MR.  BIRD.  (Hesitates,  indicating  his  struggle;  then 
leans  over  her.)  Well,  I  give  up!  I'll  fall  into  line  and 
be  "a  part,"  as  you  say.  (Goes  to  Mrs.  Ruggles,  and, 
with  grave  courtesy,  offers  her  his  arm.)  Mrs.  Ruggles, 
may  I  — 

MRS.  RUGGLES  (perturbed  and  flustered).  Oh,  sir, 
I  don't  need  leadin' !  I  'm  as  light  on  my  feet  as  ever 
I  was.  I  can  go  alone  all  right. 

MR.  BIRD  (with  an  effort).  I  know  you  can,  but, 
after  all,  we're  neighbors,  Mrs.  Ruggles;  and  I  want 
to  be  just  a  little  "Christmasy,"  as  Carol  says. 
(Mrs.  Ruggles  slowly  and  timidly  takes  his  arm,  and 
they  go  to  the  door,  right,  back.  He  steps  aside,  with 
deference.  Mrs.  Ruggles  drops  a  funny  curtsy;  then 


100  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  3 

turns  and  bows  to  Carol  and  Mrs.  Bird.  Mr.  Bird 
turns;  and  Carol  throws  him  a  kiss,  which  he  returns.) 
I'm  going  in,  to  be  "a  part." 

CAROL.  Oh,  thank  you,  Daddy.  (Mr.  Bird  looks 
at  her,  drinking  in  her  gratitude,  then  exits,  while  the 
audience  feels  sure  that  the  Ruggles  family  will  never 
be  evicted.  The  door  closes,  and  the  sound  of  childish 
voices  is  shut  out.  Mrs.  Bird  has  the  chair  placed  be- 
fore the  windows.  Carol  seats  herself,  slowly  and  weari- 
ly, but  giving  no  sense  of  exhaustion.)  Is  n't  it  time 
for  the  music,  mother? 

MBS.  BIRD  (covering  Carol  with  a  soft,  fleecy,  white 
rug).  I  think  so,  dear.  (Opens  wide  the  curtains,  and 
the  light  fatts  upon  Carol.) 

CAROL.  I'd  like  it  if  the  candles  were  out.  (Mrs. 
Bird  goes  quickly  and  turns  out  the  candle  lights.)  Then 
will  you  open  the  window  a  little? 

MRS.  BIRD.  Are  you  sure  it  is  n't  too  cold? 

CAROL.  O  mother  dear,  —  I  'm  covered  so  warm, 
and  —  I  do  love  the  winter  air  when  it's  filled  with 
snow!  (Moment  of  joy  and  content.  Mrs.  Bird  opens 
the  center  window,  and  there  is  a  glimpse  of  a  bright, 
snow-filled  night.  Carol  sits  erect  and  holds  out  her 
arms  in  a  happy,  welcoming  gesture.)  Is  n't  it  beauti- 
ful, mother? 

MRS.  BIRD.  (Comes  to  Carol  and  stands  by  her 
chair.)  It  is  very  beautiful! 

(Mr.  Bird  opens  the  door  at  right.    There  is  a 
slight  sound  of  voices.) 

MR.  BIRD.  Can  you  come,  Mary,  for  a  minute? 
Mrs.  Ruggles  and  the  children  are  going  home. 


ACT  3]  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   101 

MRS.  BIRD.  You  say  "good-night"  for  me,  Don. 
I'll  stay  with  Carol  — 

CAROL  (sitting  up).  Please  go,  mother.  They'd 
like  to  see  you  — 

MRS.  BIRD  (uncertainly).  But  you  — 
CAROL.  O  mother,  I  'm  quite  comfy,  and  happy. 
If  you'll  turn  me  a  little  more  to  the  window.  (Mrs. 
Bird  moves  the  chair  so  that  Carol  is  almost  facing  the 
light.  The  top  of  her  head  and  a  bit  of  her  cheek  are 
visible,  but  it  is  a  quiet,  soothing  picture.)  I'm  —  so  — 
sleepy  — 

(Mrs.  Bird  gives  a  motherly  tuck  to  the  rug; 
then  joins  Mr.  Bird  who  waits  in  the  door.  As  she 
comes,  he  holds  out  his  hand  and  she  takes  it. 
They  stand  together,  looking  at  Carol;  then  exit, 
and  the  door  closes  after  them.  After  a  minute's 
pause,  the  doors  that  conceal  the  Christmas  Tree 
open  stealthily.  Sarah  Maud  peeps  in;  then 
comes  in  quickly,  running  softly  to  Carol's  chair. 
She  is  a  transformed  Sarah  Maud.  Her  eyes  are 
bright;  her  cheeks  pink;  her  hair,  that  has  been 
heretofore  pulled  away  from  her  face  into  two  tight 
braids,  has  escaped  from  its  bondage  and  flows 
more  loosely,  softening  the  careworn  young  face. 
A  thin,  white  scarf,  one  of  her  presents,  conceals 
her  stooping,  angular  shape.  She  holds  a  book 
and  a  little  box  or  two  tied  up  with  tissue  paper 
and  ribbons.) 

SARAH  MAUD.  I  would  n't  let  the  others  come  in: 
I  jest  stole  away.  It's  been  the  best  evenin',  an'  the 
grandest  time  that  ever  our  folks  had.  I  guess  they 


102  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   [ACT  3 

don't  have  no  better  times  in  Heaven  than  this 
was! 

CAROL.  (Lifts  herself  a  little  from  the  pillow  and  puts 
out  her  hand.  Sleepily.)  I  loved  it,  too,  Sarah  Maud. 
SARAH  MAUD  (putting  her  back  on  the  pillow'). 
Don't  you  stir.  Lay  right  back  and  sleep  good;  and 
don't  you  hang  out  no  hank'chif  to-morrer!  Our 
house '11  be  kep'  so  quiet  for  yer  you'll  think  we're 
all  sick  abed.  Good-bye.  (Steals  out  softly  and  quickly. 
Pause.) 

(The  music  is  heard,  first  very  softly,  then  more, 
and  more  distinctly;  and  the  light  at  the  win- 
dows grows  slowly  brighter.  Carol  raises  herself 
a  trifle  for  a  moment  to  hear  it  better,  then  settles 
back  with  a  happy  smile.  As  the  music  increases 
in  definiteness,  the  light  in  the  center  window  grows 
brighter,  and  the  Angel  of  the  Crutches  appears, 
the  same  who  was  the  Home-Finder  in  the  Pro- 
logue. Her  gown  is  a  blur  of  soft,  shimmering 
colors.  She  smiles  down  at  Carol,  tiptoes  to  her 
chair,  gently  touches  her  hair,  then  stoops  and 
lifts  the  little  crutch  —  lifts  it  beautifully,  and 
with  all  the  spiritual  meaning  she  is  able  to  con- 
vey; then,  with  it  in  her  arm,  she  backs  slowly  on 
to  and  out  from  the  open  window-ledge,  and,  as 
the  curtain  falls,  she  stands  framed  in  the  window; 
—  but  before  the  curtain  is  quite  down,  the  Angel 
and  the  crutch  have  disappeared.) 

(The  winter  light  and  the  Christmas  music 
come  in  through  the  open  window,  snowflakes  flut- 
ter past,  and  the  Play  is  ended.) 


ACT  3]  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL   103 

(The  children  in  the  audience  probably  think 
that  Carol  has  given  her  crutch  to  the  famous  Dr. 
Bob;  as  for  their  mothers  and  fathers  —  they  feel 
that,  at  any  rate,  the  crutch  will  never  be  used,  or 
needed,  any  more  /) 


-29 


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SUSANNA  AND  SUE 

With  four  Illustrations  in  color  by  ALICE  BARBER  STEPHENS 
and  Text  Pictures  by  N.  C.  WVK 

THE  OLD  PEABODY  PEW 

Story.    With  Illustration*  and  Decoration*  by 
JARBER  STEPHENS. 

THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL 

With  Illustrations  and  Decorations  in  color  by  KAI "? 

K.  WlRBUAN. 

A  CATHEDRAL  COURTSHIP 

Illustrated  by  CHARLES  E.  BROCK. 

THE  AFFAIR  AT  THE   INN 

URYandjA  K.  and  ALLAN 

th  six  Illustrations  in  tint. 

TIMOTHYS  QUEST 

icions  by  OLIVER   HERFORD.    C 

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With  numerous  Illustrations  by  CHARLES  E  BROCK 

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